


Just x To Get x High

by GhouliGhost



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Drugs, Graphic Description, Greed Island Arc, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Methamphetamine, Mild Language, Needles, Panic Attacks, Peer Pressure, Possible Character Death, Underage Drug Use, Underage Sex, Unresolved Tension, Violence, Vomiting, Weapons, Yorkshin City Arc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-25
Updated: 2015-10-15
Packaged: 2018-03-25 17:18:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 27
Words: 97,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3818542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhouliGhost/pseuds/GhouliGhost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He stood, ramrod straight and stiff as a board, helpless, as he watched Gon take that first sip of Crystal Meth into his body, breathed it in. Let it mesh one with his veins, into his very core. Fuse with his soul.</p><p>Became it, even.</p><p>The light in Gon Freecs that Killua swore he couldn't bare to stare too long less he be blinded and unworthy to its shine, died out in that moment, faded into brittle, broken pitch blackness. </p><p>And he knew then that things would never be the same way again.</p><p>(ON HIATUS)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A series of small ficlet things I did in the alternate universe that Gon somehow ends up falling into clutches of the drug world; because his insatiable curiosity was bound to lead him astray at some point. It's not going to be long, but I'm not sure yet if ya'll gonna get a good or a bad ending so I guess we'll just see. Let me know what yah think. I'm open to opinions, cause this things pretty messy.
> 
> This is based around the use of Crystal Meth and the song 'Just To Get High' by Nickelback. I'm following the lyrics pretty much.
> 
> And, also, what happens to just about everybody who falls into drug abuse. Please, people, don't do drugs. It's just not worth it. I hate it. But I wanna portray what could happen, regardless, because not many people seem to grasp the horrors that are drugs. Eh.
> 
> I hope this conveys as my message to raise drug awareness in a weird way. 
> 
> Enjoy.

 

X x X

 

_**"He was my best friend."** _

 

It all started with a whiff.

 

They had been passing by some random strangers smoking the sweet, alluring stuff in Yorkshin City on their way to the hotel from another unsuccessful day at the bizarre when Gon paused just to inhale the heavenly scent. Even Killua had to admit whatever they were smoking had a pleasant aroma, reminding him of the smell of their indoor pool when the butlers had just finished cleaning it up. There was a faint hint of bleach in the air, but also a salty and sweet tang mixed in.

 

It sent unexplained shivers up even the ex-assassin's spine.

 

“What is that smell? It smells really good!” Gon asked aloud, curious to a fault. His amber eyes were glancing side to side as if to pinpoint the direction in which the scent had come from with that uncanny canine nose of his. Once he tracked it down, he immediately ran over to the pack of five laughing and punching each others shoulders all in good nature, smoke emptying fresh from their mouths and fouling the air with its taint.

 

“Gon, hey, wait-” Killua tried to stop him, tried to reach for his friend's hand, but Gon was already over with the small gang, laughing it up like he always did. The guy could make friends with anyone; from the critically insane to the downright dreary; all hopeless fools. Hell, he'd convince a turtle or a slug to be his friend; he was just too good.

 

Killua wasn't entirely sure what kept him rooted in spot and not rushing like he always did to his friend; to be at his side and defend him, but there was cement in his shoes and rocks in his chest as he watched as Gon place that tiny cigarette bud to his lips and take the first puff. He watched; as if in slow motion, the strobe lights of the nearby club dancing across his best friend's face; illuminating it in all sorts of vibrant colors and hues as Gon's eyes lit up in the same manor. There was fire in those golden irises now, but not the kind of fire Killua was familiar with.

 

He had seen it before; determination, confidence, _pride._ Gon Freecs wore it like a badge of honor, radiated as bright as the sun.

 

But this was nothing like that at all.

 

It was dark; lids hooded by some strange, alien thing Killua couldn't quite read or understand. Gon's eyes drooped, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. It was so unlike him, so  _un-Gon_ that it sent a pain of hurt and guilt through Killua's chest. Gon swayed in his spot a moment, a plume of fog flitting from his widened nostrils, inhaling the fumes, and then Gon was laughing; endlessly, alongside the other teenagers around him who seemed just as amused. They all smacked their hands on Gon's scrawny back, making him stumble forward, but the bronzed-skinned teenager hardly noticed and resumed puffing out repeatedly from the bud perched precariously on his mouth now.

 

Over. And over.

 

Killua's heart was pounding hard on his rib cage, harder then the thrum of the pulse-hitting music booming from the closest building. Neon florescent lights had stars fluttering across his vision, spiraling and spinning, but they were nothing like the way Gon was pirouetting in front of him; all grins and giggles alongside five other strange, masked faces moving around him, all in one incomprehensible blur. This wasn't the show Killua was expecting, wasn't anticipating to find here in Yorknew. They were supposed to be seeking out methods to earn money and pay Gon's way to getting Greed Island. Follow the clues that led him to finding his father, Ging.

 

How had drugs slipped their way in there, Killua did not know. But it hurt. Inexplicably hurt.

 

“Gon.” Killua whispered, name dying off the edge of his tongue and never quite making it to the air. He stood, ramrod straight and stiff as a board, helpless, as he watched Gon take that first sip of Crystal Meth into his body, breathed it in. Let it mesh one with his veins, into his very core. Fuse with his soul.

 

Became it, even.

 

The light in Gon Freecs that Killua swore he couldn't bare to stare too long less he be blinded and unworthy to its shine, died out in that moment, faded into brittle, broken pitch blackness.

 

And he knew then that things would never be the same way again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killua rejects Gon's use of drugs and it backfires.

_**"I tried to help him."** _

 

“Gon. I told you to put that shit away an hour ago. It smells terrible.”

 

Killua held a cloth to his face even though it did little to cover the stench of burnt chemicals and plastic overtaking their entire hotel room. Two days in and already the place absolutely reeked of the horrific odor.

 

Cheap, impure and poor quality Crystal Meth.

 

He was shocked hotel management had yet to file a complaint on them; the place smelled rancid, like moldy corpses, only worse.

 

And how Gon managed to slip out that night they returned to the hotel and come back with a backpack full of that odorless white powder was beyond Killua. He knew he was a light sleeper but somehow, someway, Gon managed to evade detection and was now fully loaded with a whole week's supply of the drug. Gon didn't inform Killua how he got it or how much it cost, all that mattered was the guy was set up and had everything he needed to successfully smoke the junk.

 

“Gon. Seriously.” Killua pressed again, sapphire eyes falling on the sun-kissed male sitting on _their_ shared bed; which was soaked in that nasty smell, with a cigar firmly pressed between two puckered lips. Usually a time like this, Killua would be warring over a rising blush at the mere thought of staring at his best friend's _mouth_ for so long, especially in the display they were right now, just ready for a kiss. Sure, his feelings may had been ever present; his undying _crush_ for Gon Freecs had been confirmed long ago, but it didn't mean he had to voice these feelings out loud.

 

No. Killua was perfectly content remaining at Gon's side. At the risk of potentially collapsing their already tight-knit friendship; Killua knew better then to let his feelings get in the way, wrench what little hope he had that maybe; just  _maybe_ , someday Gon might return the loving gesture.

 

And so Killua remained silent, waiting. Perhaps it was a game of patience, then. Killua could wait for Gon. He hadn't become an assassin for nothing.

 

But, what he couldn't wait for, was that god-awful smell to go away and get off of those succulent pair of moistened, dark lips that Killua really had spent too long dreaming of kissing and then some.

 

“GON!”

 

“Hm?” Gon responded, almost in a daze, as he lowered the bud from his mouth and blinked over at Killua, head cocked to the side, “What is it Killua?”

 

Gaping, dumbstruck, Killua smacked a hand on his forehead and sighed. “Have you seriously been ignoring me this entire time?”

 

“No.” Gon said, tongue running over his bottom lip thoughtfully. He placed the drug back against his tongue and sucked loudly from it, small clouds filtering out his nose as he breathed. Killua grimaced.

 

“Liar. You're high, aren't you?”

 

Gon looked confused. Genuinely confused. “What's high?”

 

“...you're doing drugs and don't even know what the hell HIGH means?”

 

“Nope.” A shrug of amply muscled shoulders was all he got in return. Killua smacked his other hand to his cheek now, dragging both down his face in a dramatic fashion, groaning out his frustration.

 

“Gon. Stop smoking that crap. That stuff is bad for you and messes up your head. Quit it! I'm not joking around, here!”

 

Gon pulled away his cigar and held it towards Killua then, a broad smile on his dopey, stupid face. “Neither am I. Here, want some? I'll share.”

 

“ _NO!!!_ ” shrieked Killua higher then intended, smacking away the offending piece of garbage far off across the room. Gon jerked, bolting off the bed with reflexes that were uncanny for an _Enhancer_ to have; even more so for a guy who ambled around like he had boulders for feet. He hurriedly snatched up his cigar and sent a glare Killua's way; a glare that had even Killua shaking in his boots, breathless when he caught sight of it.

 

The darkness in those eyes, devoid of life, were palpating his heart; icy and unforgiving. Gon was mad.

 

“I-” Killua started, but Gon barked over his own voice, tone harsh and grating like knives

 

“Fine! Be that way, Killua. You're such a jerk! I'm never sharing with you, _AGAIN!_ ”

 

_BANG._

 

The door slammed behind Gon as he left and Killua sunk into a dead, cold silence. A silence; that, too this day, never left him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killua covers up Gon's tracks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like some parts are OOC ish. Argh. I need to work on that.

_**"But he traded everything, for suffering."** _

 

Gon's arms never squeezed so hard in a hug as they did when Kurapika and Leorio were there, waiting with open arms and big, welcoming smiles. Killua was happy to see his friend so jubilant; it really had been too long since the four of them had been together again like this. All three of them were laughing, Leorio punching lightly at Gon's shoulder as they chattered, Kurapika just nodding away in agreement all the while.

 

Killua kept his distance, letting them share this moment between the three of them without his rude, snide comments and snarly banter. Killua always had been the mood killer; at least mainly for Leorio's sake, so he didn't want to just jump the gun and interrupt a happy reunion. Not yet.

 

Not with how Gon's mood had spiraled in a down turn lately. The risk wasn't worth it.

 

“Come on, Leorio! Kurapika! I want to show you guys something!” Gon's words broke through his hazy thoughts, snapping Killua's head up in surprise. “You're going to love it! Come on, Killua, you too.” He motioned for the snowy-haired teen to follow and he, of course, willingly obliged.

 

The four of them soon found themselves sitting in a booth at a small restaurant Killua remembered visiting much too often with Gon; before the _incident_ had happened. They served the best chocolate cakes here. Killua had indulged himself once too many times and either Gon was carting him off kicking and screaming or the waiters and waitresses were chasing at him with mops and brooms to get out; because he was eating _all_ their supplies of chocolate in one sitting and they just couldn't have that, now could they?

 

The words Gon was rambling insistently to Leorio and Kurapika was lost to Killua, feeling his own eyes sink in the more time passed listening to the static and buzz of his three friends talking so happily, so _lively_ , that he almost worried it was because he just wasn't used to this.

 

Used to this kindness, this joy.

 

It was only when Gon had jabbed him in the shoulder, rather hard, that snapped him from his scattered, troublesome thoughts.

 

“Hey, Killua. I'm going to be right back a moment.” Gon said, Killua dumbly staring at the faint patches of blotchy, red skin starting to fade in around Gon's mouth he hadn't noticed before, “Bathroom. Will you order the usual for me?”

 

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Killua answered and his blue eyes never left Gon as he stood up and eagerly trotted away and out of sight, a hand oddly shoved in the small pouch slung at his waist the entire time until he was gone.

 

“Killua.” Leorio's voice came next, scrutinizing gaze trained on Killua, predatory almost. “Is something going on we should know about?”

 

Swallowing the lump that hadn't been there before, Killua gulped. His sense of dread was back, impeding and looming like a overhang of spikes that are almost impossible to escape in the movies. But this wasn't the movies; this was real life, and Killua often wondered if he'd even be able to wiggle his way out of this one. “What do you mean? Nothing is going on.”

 

“Yeah there is. Killua, it couldn't be more obvious if you tried.” Kurapika followed, his hands folded on the table in that typical discreet; calculating manner he always did when he was deep in thought. Killua knew he wouldn't be able to avoid it now, not with Kurapika's knowing, nagging self on his case and Leorio; the ever annoying background preacher. “Something is up with Gon and you know what it is.”

 

“What gives you that idea? Gon is Gon. There's nothing else to say about it.”

 

“He smells.” Leorio put in the most bluntest way possible. “Like drugs. And so do you. I'm practicing to be a doctor so I pretty much know all the wide range of drugs; including the bad stuff.”

 

“That's because we passed by a huge smoker's lounge on our way to meet you! The smell probably clung to our clothes with how much was filling the air.”

 

“A quick passing through a _smokers_ lounge wouldn't make you guys stink this bad. Your clothes smell like they're saturated in it. Especially you, Killua.” Kurapika pointed out, his face obviously speaking that he didn't buy Killua's excuse in the least.

 

“I can even see some of that white, powdery stuff on your back pockets and shirt, Killua. It's easy to recognize what it is.”

 

“Look, you guys, it's just-” Killua tried to defend himself, really tried, but the reprimanding stares from both of what he would consider his _closest_ friends (after Gon) was heart breaking. His chest tightened, twisting in knots, and he flapped his gums uselessly in defeat, head hung slunk low with a losing sigh. He didn't realize he must had gotten some of Gon's meth on his clothes; he knew they often mixed their things when they lazily wold pile up clothes in random places along their hotel room floor. Some of the almost-emptied baggies Gon had earlier may have winded up in there, too.

 

Of course, Killua's luck had to be rotten of all things, today.

 

“You don't have to tell us, if it's that hard. But whatever you're doing, is stupid. Really, really stupid.” Leorio spoke, tone as calm as ever, but Killua knew he was angry and the anger from yet another one of his friend's in the span of a week was something even Killua hadn't trained himself enough to deal with. Not in his entire lifetime, really.

 

“But we aren't-”

 

“Whatever is going on, Killua, you better stop. It's a bad influence on Gon. You know he'd follow you into whatever it is you decide to do. But don't let your bad choices lead a the naive kid astray. It's not right.”

 

“It wasn't-!”

 

“You know he'd do anything you told him, too, Killua. Listen to Leorio, here. He and I both know that this isn't the kind of thing you should be getting into. It's a dangerous game you're playing if you think Gon wouldn't follow your lead. He's your friend and he dotes on you like a puppy. Of course he would listen and do whatever it is you tell him to do. But don't mix him up into a situation he's not ready for. It really isn't fair. Not on him and not on yourself.”

 

“But-”

 

“Yeah, Gon's just an innocent kid. He doesn't deserve to be caught in all your underground business.”

 

“I'm not-”

 

“Killua. You better be the smart and responsible one of you two, because if you aren't, then you should be prepared to face the consequences.”

 

“No-”

 

“I know you don't like your family and I know you probably don't like dealing with all that shady stuff, but be smart, geez! Gon and you are just teenagers. Don't do this to yourself so soon!”

 

“You're wrong-!!”

 

The cracking of splintered wood under his nails snapped him from the impending break down Killua was about to burst into, and if it hadn't been for the bit of blood flecking on his claws, he'd probably had snapped. But the grim reminder from the pain lancing his hands all the way to his heart, was enough to keep him sane.

 

“Are we? Are we wrong, Killua?”

 

The pair of eyes on him was engulfing every inch of Killua's last vestiges of rightfulness, the very small fibers and strings that were still keeping him intact; whole. He knew he had made a mistake, but he really didn't need to have it rubbed into his face so, _so_ , forcefully.

 

“..No.”

 

Regrettably, Killua hung his head low; shamefully acknowledging their words. Covering Gon's tracks. Like he always did. For Gon. He would do it to protect Gon.

 

“Okay.” he said, mouth dry, body numb; hollow and empty again, “I'll stop. For Gon's sake.”

 

That was the first of many times Killua took the blame for Gon's mistakes and he clutched onto every moment like a lifeline.

 

A brutal beating indeed. Lying.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killua feels the distance between him and Gon growing.

“ _ **And found himself alone.**_ ”

 

Killua really wasn't one for crying. No, the last time he had ever shed tears was maybe as a young child; when he was first being introduced to killing; the feel of the blood and muscle tearing under his nails and the squishy pieces clinging to him, constant. When he received his first beating; the sting and pain of scars which would never heal a forever reminder of the profession he had been born into, fated. His first poison; throwing it up for hours on end and feeling so sick and crummy afterwards, endless. It had always been only a little bit, a droplet or two, but nothing substantial to be considered a full-blown sob fest like some hormonal-frustrated teenage girl crying over the loss of her first crush to her best friend.

 

Haha, losing their first crush. What an understatement.

 

“Gon..” muttered Killua against his palms pressing roughly into his eyes, fighting the water works threatening to blow any second now as he curled up further under the sheets of their shared bed. 

 

It really shouldn't had been any surprise. This had been going on for a week now; Gon sneaking out at night to go hang out at those back alleys hidden behind the clubs and bars where actual life  _ breathed _ and talked and not the empty; dank and cold recesses of where drugs and death were dealt from behind. Not in those cramped little spaces where all the starving, greedy people smoked away their worries and cares away on a false  _ high _ . 

 

Killua had only caught him once and only once in the middle of Gon's attempt to be 'stealthy' and get away. Caught in the middle of his own nightmare and finding your best friend crawl out the window had been a little much. Just a little.

 

“ _Gon? Where are you going?”_

 

“ _Out.”_

 

“ _Out where?”_

 

“ _Does it matter?”_

 

“ _Of course it matters, idiot! I wouldn't ask if it didn't matter.”_

 

“ _Just go back to sleep, Killua. I'll be back before morning.”_

 

“ _Gon, wait-!”_

 

And then he was gone. But it didn't stop there. Killua tracked him down; swearing to himself he wouldn't let things slide that easily. No way in Hell he'd let Gon off the hook like that.

 

When he eventually found him, huddled close to six other random and strange people, his mouth inches from what was possibly a shared cigar; white powder visible to the naked eye and falling out the other end, as they all breathed together in unison to make one big smoke cloud in the air - Killua felt a newly formed crack in his world.

 

Watching Gon with his cheeks flushed pink and scarlet on an already darkened skin tone, honey eyes half-lidded and dopey, and a body so relaxed and at ease smiling satisfactory the whole time; Killua couldn't even hold back the bile hitting the back of his throat at just the thought of this cursed scenario. Wasn't he supposed to be the one; somewhere in the distant future, seeing that blush? Looking into those hazy, drunken eyes? Holding and hugging that box so lax? Kissing those aforementioned lips that were all too eager to be sharing saliva and  _ air _ no less with total strangers? He barely made it to the nearest trash can, his retching more then enough to scare away the few people who weren't busy smoking to flee in a panic, less they be snatched up in Killua's own inner turmoil.

 

When he finally rose back up for air and finished wiping the stray bits that had landed on his shirt, Gon was nowhere to be found.  _ Figures. _

 

And of course, to top it off, as soon as he returned to their hotel; Gon was already fast asleep in bed, wrapped up in all the blankets and his back to him. Killua stood off to the side, his clammy skin hardly containing his uncontrollable shaking as he reached out to touch Gon, but he came up short and dropped his hand half-way there. Gon looked so at peace; cradled under the covers and a face of utmost serenity. Killua couldn't disturb the perfect image before him for all the chocolate in the world. It warmed his heart, if only for a moment, before his sight caught the deep, sunken shadows under Gon's lids, those faintly white patches of dead skin around his mouth now even more noticeable in the darkness, bigger. His hair was a mess, unnaturally upright ends jutting out and tangled, a few sticks and leaves poking through. How long had it been since Gon showered? Even Killua knew Gon had the crazy habit of being excessively clean, ingrained in him from Mito-san.

 

But here he was, dirty, coated in a layer of dust and smelly chemicals that hung in the air like a fog. A fog Killua was fairly accustomed to. He had seen it before many, many times. But seeing it anew; painted on the face of his best friend, was much more disconcerting then it should have been.

 

The fog of encroaching death.

 

Tears were spilling fresh from the Zoldyck's eyes when he blinked them back open to the creak of the window shutting behind him and Gon's not-so-quiet foot falls on the carpet as he made his way back to their bed. He felt the mattress sink under the weight a moment then rise, the rustle of something else and a very soft, almost wordless  _ 'Shit' _ , before Gon apparently settled down and instantly started dozing away. The murmurs of a snore confirmed it. 

 

Killua didn't dare turn though, because his pillow was already soaked with his own tears and the hand clapped over his mouth was trembling, much like his shoulders which took the brunt of his shakes, as he stared through the blurry droplets on his eye lashes at the far off hotel room wall.

 

What was worse, was the smell of all things. Sweet. Aromatic and  _ sweet _ like honey and pine together. Gon and Crystal Meth. As one.

 

It was a math equation that didn't involve Killua, no matter how many things you added onto it.

 

It'd never let him fit in and give a legible answer.

 

That was the first night Killua; even with all his training and sheer, unbreakable will power, finally had a melt down in absolute silence.

 

Better yet, he was alone. Absolutely and horrifically alone.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killua experiences first hand what Gon Freecs is like with bad intentions.
> 
> {Warning: Minor Sexual Content}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not particularly fond of this chapter but; somehow, its ties into my future plot. I don't like it either, but you know what, when you get into drugs; people do some stupid things. This is just an example of one of those. I'd like to thank everyone again for the bit of feedback and comments. I really appreciate it. Seriously, lay one on me and let me hear what you think cause I'm still not sure where I'm going with this. Every bit counts. Thanks again.
> 
> Enjoy.

_**"I watched the lying."** _

 

The day of the auction for the Green Island games had finally come but Gon was nowhere to be seen.

 

“Where is he? We've got ten minutes before they close the doors on us!” Zepile waved his hands dramatically through the air, like it might emphasize how _late_ they really were.

 

Killua adjusted his tie a little off to the side because it was squeezing too tightly on his neck and sighed. “I don't know. He said he was coming this way when I texted him twenty minutes ago.”

 

“Did you try calling him?”

 

“No answer.” Killua reluctantly dropped the beetle phone in hand back into his pant pocket, “I even left a voicemail. Three of them.”

 

“They won't let us in unless he's here. We registered under his name. You know how strict the mafia is on policy.”

 

“Tch. I know, I know.” Running his hand through his silver locks, Killua paced back and forth in front of the strangely clad associate of theirs, his giant eyebrows hardly distracting Killua from their current predicament. The auction for Greed Island wasn't going to wait for Gon to show up, no matter how much they begged or pleaded for them to postpone and wait. And if Gon didn't show up, they wouldn't be able to enter and even see the auction and who wins the game.

 

Gon's one solid lead on finding his father would be a total bust.

 

Five minutes in and Killua was looking more and more frazzled by the ticking down of the seconds on his wrist watch. His snowy hair was starting to stand up on end with nervous sweat, adding to the fuzziness.

 

“Killua. What are we going to do? We're going to miss the auction at this rate. Gon will lose his chance to bid on that Greed Island game.” The disappointment wasn't so much displayed in Zepile's voice as it was in Killua's heart.

 

“I'll try my phone again. That idiot can't ignore my spamming messages for too long before he snaps.”

 

A few more minutes later and Killua was furiously jabbing the keys on his beetle phone with the rising anger bubbling in his chest, sending text after text to Gon after he long since found out Gon had turned off his phone. It would dial and go straight to voicemail. That was a bad sign. He was on text number twenty when the slam shut of the doors in front of him made him jump back in place, blue eyes wider then saucers.

 

Solemnly, he stared down at the unfinished text message he was sending and pressed delete. For the delete button not only rid him of his message, but the last glimmer of hope he had in Gon finding his father. Just as the doors shut before him signified.

 

Zepile's comforting hand on his shoulder only made the ace ten times worse in the span of ten minutes, at least.

 

When Killua eventually trudged up the last few steps leading to their hotel suite, his phone still hadn't received any confirmation message from Gon that he had even acknowledged them. Killua felt a vein pop out on his forehead. _That bastard._ The boiling rage in his rib cage stung, rightfully so. He would punch Gon's lights out the next time he saw him, that he ascertained. This was the last straw. Gon had already been driving Killua insane enough, but this was the final time he would accept it. _Yes_ , he told himself, _No more of this shit._

 

His nice dress shoes were pretty worn out by the time he found their room floor; pitying that they had chosen such a big hotel to stay in the first place. It was ridiculous to navigate. He fished his room keys from his back pocket, snug against his phone and jingled them in the air. Killua wished his heart was as light as the chime the metal made when bouncing against itself. Maybe then he wouldn't feel so god damn _heavy_. Every foot step, every _breath_ even felt painful, hard. Like he was exerting himself to the brink, really, and was using every last bit of strength just to hold himself upright.

 

This ordeal certainly had taken a toll on the poor Zoldyck. He often wondered why he was even still around.

 

_I love you, Gon._

 

Right, that was it, wasn't it? What a sick twist of fate that was.

 

_Gon loves meth more then he'd ever love me._

 

As Killua neared the door to their room, something perked to his attention, echoing in his ear. Something like low panting? Moans? What kind of sounds were that? A scream for help?

 

Killua's heart rate doubled in pace, pounding under tight, constricting skin. He felt his world go numb, legs jelly-limbed, and he shakily took the last few steps needed to stand in front of their door. Room 199. The closer he found himself, the more he could hear those gut-wrenching sounds, louder, _higher_ pitched. There was two of them, mending as one, and the sense of dread slowly unfolding itself upon Killua blanketed him in its cold, sticky fingers as much as the nauseating scent in the air clung to every bit of his exposed skin.

 

It was like a mist; a deep, thick mist predating the air of the hallway, straight to their room and ending right in the entryway. Killua could see it, clear as day even if it were pitch black, and he fought his way to breathe, to think, to _move_ forward just that last step and open the door. The lock clicked, keys doing their job, but he didn't bother to pull them out as he reached out, eyes trained on the constant shaking of his hand. Why was he shaking again? Was he actually scared? Was this what fear felt like?

 

Gon was okay; he could easily discern his voice from the pair. It was breathing heavily, ragged and hoarse. Raw, animalistic, almost primal; he sounded so masculine. Goose-bumps pricked at Killua's pale complexion and he absently rubbed away at his neck, damp with even more sweat then there was before.

 

_Calm down, Zoldyck. You can do this. Do it for Gon._

 

“Gon.” he said, just once, and sucked in the deepest, greediest breath of air he could and wrenched open the door; throwing all nervousness out the window. It was now or never. The longer he waited, the less time he had to find out what these sounds were originating from; what they were _about._

 

The door flung open and Killua moved in, fast, but he only made it one step in with his hand still glued to the knob before his eyes fell on the sight before him, rendered speechless immediately.

 

Even with the sheets hiked up over their backs, it was obvious Gon was on top of someone. He could recognize that head of hair anyway; black locks messy and still as pointed as ever; the tips burnt green. The bronze skin glistened in the dark room; the curtains drawn shut. Someone, who he figured was a woman guessing by her long, blonde locks cascading over the edge, was beneath him, arms snugly wrapped around Gon's neck as he moved, kissing the top of her hair every time he thrust forward. They were rocking in unison and Killua's throat tightened the longer he stared at the scene, eyes withdrawing further into his skull in shock.

 

Killua knew exactly what sex was; hell, he'd seen enough porno films to have a very graphic image of it, but to watch your best friend fucking some random strange with an expression that just screamed _I'm high_ was bone-chilling.

 

As a complimentary bonus, the entire room was literally covered in a sheet of smoke. Sweet, rich, and somehow bitter on Killua's tongue. His eyes watered as soon as the drugged air hit him, burning like coals. On the floor, the sofa, the nearby coffee table; the whole place just had all these candles filled with that disgusting, _disgraceful_ white powder.

 

“ _Ah, ah..”_

 

“Stop.” Killua found himself saying, not even sure how he managed to speak at all at this point, voice barely above a squeak. Gon's mouth was parted. Killua easily saw the saliva there. And while Gon's mouth was watering, wet, Killua's was as dry as a desert.

 

“ _Ah, ahh...”_

 

“Please stop.”

 

Gon's hips clearly undulated under those sheets, the curve of his naked ass defined by the thin covers that laid atop of it.

 

“ _Hnnnghh.. hah..”_

 

“Make it stop.”

 

Killua was choking on his own bit of spit. Their moans, gasps, sounds; he could hardly hear them over the screaming boom, clap,  _ thunder  _ of his heart beat. His pulse rate had to be skyrocketing by now. But he couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't breathe.

 

“ _Yes.. Y-yes...”_

 

“ _A-ah.. y-yes.. yes, t-there is good.”_

 

“ _D-don't stop. Don't-”_

 

“ _Gon.”_

 

The woman's voice rang out, shattering his mental fortress like a missile, and Killua screamed suddenly; louder then he'd ever had in his entire life.

 

“STOP! JUST-! _FUCKING STOP!_ ”

 

It was a good thing Gon had indeed heard him that time;  _ acknowledged  _ him, because Killua wasn't sure how much more he could take. He fell to his knees, legs unable to support him any longer, as he stared hopelessly at the confused and slightly startled looks of his best friend and the woman he was courting; gauging she had to be older then him from the looks of it. Gon was always the charmer, wasn't he?

 

“G-Gon.”

 

“Is that you, Killua?” Gon said, his pitch slightly slurred from the ecstasy-induced haze he was in, head cocked to the side.

 

The woman beneath Gon scoffed, her arms tightening around that strong, muscled neck Killua spent months dreaming about hugging. All fantasies about that were now thrown out the window. “Who the hell is he?”

 

“Hm? Oh, he's nothing.” replied Gon, instantly, and Killua's hands fell lifelessly to his sides, shoulders dropped just like his slacking jaw.

 

The woman purred and Gon was peppering kisses along her jaw line, the sultry look in his eyes piercing like a dagger in Killua's heart. “Right now, you should be focusing on me, eh?”

 

“WHAT THE FUCK? GON.”

 

Killua yelled, again, and immediately regretted it when Gon sent the nastiest glare his way, molten gold eyes lit with that same fire Killua had seen that very first day; now a raging inferno and all-consuming.

 

“What? Can't you see I'm busy here?”

 

“Y-you,” Killua struggled, stuttering with how powerful the shaking in his body was, “You ignored all my texts and calls. You didn't come to the auction. You missed Green Island. You spent all that money just to get a spot in and see it. F-for this? To have _sex_?! What the _hell_?!”

 

“What is Killua talking about? I was never going to the auction today.” Gon quirked a brow, shifting slightly in his spot and the blonde moaned cheerily on the bed.

 

The silver-haired teenager would have thrown an accusatory finger Gon's way if he were physically able to. “Yes you were! You told me so this morning. You promised we were going to go. That's WHY you're here! Greed Island, dumb ass! What about finding your  _ fucking  _ FATHER?”

 

“I'm not interested in that anymore.” Gon spoke as casual as ever, not appearing the least bit phased with the fact he had just been caught by his 'best friend' fucking some stranger ON THEIR hotel bed like it was an everyday occurrence. Gon shrugged a little then leaned down to grin against the lady beneath him, his hips bucking forward a few times to make her coo and keen out loud. “Ging can go screw himself for all I care. I'm busy.”

 

“Y-you! You _bastard_!” shouted Killua before he could stop himself, slamming his fist into the nearby wall, effectively caving in the cheap, poorly structured plaster and cement with the newly made dent. A shudder, his knuckles were bleeding, but Killua didn't bother to nurse at his wounds like he would have done so long ago. “F-fuck.. _Fuck you!”_

 

“Okay. After I'm done with her, then.”

 

Gon rolled his eyes once, chuckling, and returned to his 'business' and Killua helplessly sat there, in total awe at the nerve of this guy. After all they had been through; all those joyful moments spent discussing where to look, where to go; where to find  _ his  _ father. Gon had been so excited pulling out that memory card and ring, like a kid who just received the best Christmas gift of the century. And now, here Killua was watching Gon stomp on it to pieces, a spiteful frown etching every stupid line on his idiotic face. 

 

“You...” Killua slowly said, even though he highly doubted his voice could be heard over the loud, insistent cries of the woman hitting her peak and Gon above her, high on his own crescendo, “You idiot. You're so stupid. So _fucking_ stupid.”

 

Killua was glad nobody noticed or cared when he left.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killua feels his mental fortress slowly start to crumble and concludes that he holds no regrets.

**"Turned into hiding."**

 

“Where's Gon?” Leorio asked, sitting before Killua in the small, compact restaurant table they shared, sipping coolly at his piping hot coffee. “Isn't he with you today?”

 

“No.” Killua didn't look up from his plate full of sugary treats that surely would have his teeth and gums hurting by the day's end, rotting in the near future. Unfortunately, they still remained untouched and were probably long since cold and starting to harden with how long he had just been staring at it, not moving, not eating.

 

“Why not?” pressed Leorio anyway, not swayed by the detached, emotionless expression Killua wore the entire time they were seated. He'd never seen Killua like this, but he wouldn't admit it to his face just yet. Safety reasons.

 

“'Dunno. Don't care.”

 

Leorio's dark eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What's gotten into you?”

 

“Good question.” Killua responded mechanically, pupils shrinking slightly in recognition, “What has gotten into me?”

 

“I'm the one who just asked you that, Killua.”

 

“Did you now? Liorio.”

 

“It's LEORIO! Come on, _Killua!_ Answer me. Now's not the time to be funny!” Leorio barked and for a brief moment, Killua snapped from his daze and looked up, startled. But as soon as it came, he went limp and lifeless again, staring at his food with the same empty facial expression. “Killua, I'm serious. What's wrong with you? Did something happen between you and Gon?”

 

“Would it matter if something did?”

 

“Of course it matters. You two are my friends. If something happened, I want to know so I can help.” Leorio offered, reaching out to brush Killua's bone-white fingers with his own. The ex-assassin hissed and withdrew his fingers automatically, hiding them under the table and away from prying eyes and unwanted touches. The bruised and bloodied knuckles didn't go ignored by the soon-to-be-doctor, but he kept his mouth shut for now. “Is it about Gon?”

 

“Fuck Gon.”

 

“Killua!”

 

“What?” Killua's head snapped up, eyes glowing with rage that had even the suit-clad man shrinking in fear. “What is it?”

 

“What is your problem? Gon is your friend. Don't cuss at him.”

 

“My _friend_?” A laugh; a cold, heartless, unforgiving laugh. “As if. He can fuck off for all I care.”

 

“Is this about before? When Kurapika and I commented on that smoky smell on you two?” Leorio tried, changing tactics before it got any uglier then it already was.

 

“That's the least of our problems, honestly.”

 

“What do you mean by that?”

 

“It means exactly as I say it, old coot. That's the _least_ of anybody's problems.”

 

“Killua-”

 

“May I refill your drinks?” The waitress interrupted, her frilly apron just distracting enough to draw Killua's eyes away from his filled plate in front of him.

 

She shrunk back at the look the Zoldyck shot her as soon as his gaze went up, grinning like the devil himself. Even Leorio could only gulp, shake his head, and sip at his coffee sadly. Another lost cause.

 

“Yeah.” Killua's voice broke when he talked, never once dropping eye contact the entire time, “You can. Get me all the strongest alcohol you got. Stat.”

 

Killua was not one for drinking, but he considered this his first time turning to alcohol for a quick fix. Anything, to ease the pain and drown in his new found misery. Hand in hand.

 

Later on that evening, Killua stumbled his way into an empty hotel room; not a bit of Gon in sight, and he managed his way straight towards the bathroom in a world of spinning lights and blurry images. He must have drank enough alcohol to place a whale into a coma and even Killua was surprised he was still walking normally; albeit all the protests from an extremely angry Leorio.

 

It had taken a lot of convincing not to have the annoying older male trail him to the hotel; assist him through his semi-drunken state he had left the restaurant with. Now, it was full-blown, which was shocking to Killua who had grown up on an incredibly tolerant alcohol-level.

 

Maybe his binge-fest was a mistake.

 

Numbly, he slumped to his knees at the foot of the bathroom doorway and crawled his way in and to the toilet, flipping up the lid so hard it broke off and clattered to the floor. The loud crash hitting the floor made him wince, ears too sensitive, ringing too much, to deal with all this noise. Leaning over the seat, Killua propped his chin on the edge and hugged it until his already milky-white skin turned bone-white, clutching it for dear life as his stomach began to rumble and churn. At least his gut was giving him a warning; he knew he'd be throwing up soon, so he had plenty of time to prepare.

 

Blindly flapping his hand out, he grabbed at some toilet paper and ripped off a giant chunk to swab at the sweat gathering on his face; itchy and irritating on his clammy skin. As he sighed against the wet sheets pressed on his cheeks, he spared a glanced to the side and noticed the waste bin filled with a bunch of empty plastic baggies.

 

Mostly empty, actually.

 

The totally recognizable white, chunky powder clinging to the corners like that annoying piece of gum in your hair you can't rid of; made the acid in Killua's mouth burn. When he stared, hypnotized by the sheen of chalky white in those bags, on _Gon's_ mouth, face, hands, body; Killua begun to shake from the dwelling anxiety he hoped the alcohol would have pushed aside for the time being. That's what booze was supposed to be for - To temporarily save you of your pain.

 

His bile and the bitter taste of alcohol and sweet, smelling poisonous, leftover drugs hit him like a wrecking ball would. It crashed into his system as he leaned into the empty space to cough and vomit and Killua was glad his gags covered up his screams of horror and disgust because he wasn't sure if he'd be able to stop himself once it started. All his emotions smashed into him from all sides, all angles, beat at him every which way like millions of fists, knives, and guns and Killua was thankful for the momentary reprieve.

 

If alcohol wasn't his temporary relief, then the traumatic vomiting would have to do.

 

And, strangely enough, Killua held no regrets, either. Not with his blue eyes trained on those horribly tasteless baggies filled with all his nightmares and biggest fears; the entire time he threw up.

 

Nope. _Not one bit._


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killua realizes Gon might not be the only one screwed up inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for all the support and comments. I am literally flipping out over all your feedback and it just makes me all giddy inside okay I am like a freak THANKS A LOT PEOPLE GEEZ (with love).
> 
> Again, I'm following the lyrics so this is still in accordance with the song. Damn, that sucka packs some feels.
> 
> Enjoy. AND THANK CHUUUUUUU~

“ _ **With scars on both his lips.”**_

 

It took a lot of convincing, but Killua managed to worm his way into securing Gon and himself a spot on the 'Greed Island' trial group. Mr. Battera; the multi-billionaire aiming to secure the games to exploit for his own personal reasons, had been relentless, but Killua's impressive smooth talk landed him a location for the testing sight. Since they missed their chance to secure the title of ownership over a game, it was a better shot then any. This way, Gon could still possibly find his dad without expending billions of dollars in the process.

 

Once Killua had perfected his lightning _Nen_ as per-requisite to being accepted to play Greed Island ; now able to short-circuit an entire block when fully charged, he figured it was about time to visit Gon and see how much progress he had made. His Transmuting ability came easy to him; a childhood of dancing on electric wires and living with static pumping in your veins meant he nearly mastered his electricity in only three short days. He knew Gon's Enhancing strength would be more time consuming and that meant more time for Killua to drown his hours away in bitter, foul tasting liquids and lazily watching sparks fly from his fingertips.

 

So, with five new bottles of liquor burning down his throat, Killua eventually pushed through his boredom and joined Gon's side just as he was demonstrating his own new _Nen_ -technique for the mirror-image of himself to see.

 

Killua whistled approvingly at Gon's image reflected back in the full-body mirror propped on the far wall, that fresh coat of sweaty sheen on caramel skin; sticking his nearly see-through white tank top against his skin. It highlighted every part of Gon's best features and Killua figured it was his mind's intoxication speaking for itself more or less.

 

“Finally figure out something strong enough for the test?”

 

“Yeah.” Killua sat down nearby and slipped a lollipop into his mouth, humming agreeably. “I think I almost got the timing down perfectly. Just a little bit more and I'll be ready.”

 

“Mmnh. Okay. I'm watching you practice, so deal with it.”

 

“'kay.”

 

Fifteen minutes passed as Killua watched Gon practice his _Nen_ for the upcoming exam in the descending quietness, he couldn't help but let his eyes wander; the buzz of all those whiskeys would do that to a teenager who's meager body weight couldn't handle his own alcohol tolerance.

 

At first, all he was focused on was his lips. There was a line of scars just barely visible on his bottom lip, spider webbing out in thin lines that blended in with the chapped, peeling flesh, that Killua hadn't noticed before. But he didn't pay too much attention on them; more interested in the way Gon was moving his hands then anything. Those big, brawny calloused fingers were clenching and releasing slowly, drawing in his golden aura into those digits until it segregated into a single point. Killua had to admit; Gon's idea was brilliant for his level of mental caliber. Apparently when being high on Crystal Meth, Gon turned into a magical genius. He could actually _solve_ math equations that were ten grades higher then his actual intelligence level with little to no difficulty. And that was just the beginning of what he was capable of doing. Killua was impressed.

 

“Wing-san said if I focus all my energy into one point using everything I've learned from him at once, I could make something spectacular happen.” Gon held up his glowing hand with a broad, silly grin that radiated against the back drop of the sun pouring through their single room window. Killua usually would have melted in its presence, but at this point in time and drunk off his ass; Killua could only just stare blankly in turn probably looking extremely dumb. “What do you think? I almost have it perfected and I should be ready for that test.”

 

“Sounds good. You are an Enhancer anyway. Seems logical you would try to enhance something of yourself to start. I told you already that was what you were supposed to do but _you_ never listen.”

 

“Haha. Yeah! I guess I don't sometimes, but at least I figured out something on my own.” Gon brightened, nodding to himself, and continued to gaze with that ever present determined-look he always got when he was fully honed in on a task. “This is going to be a piece of cake.”

 

“Mmm.. cake..” drawled Killua, licking his lips with a giggle. He was rocking back and forth on the heels of his palms, sitting on the nearby table as he watched in half-earnest, too bubbly inside to give a flying fuck really. He could use another swig of tequila after this. “I want some cake.”

 

“It's in the mini fridge. I got your favorite. The one from that diner down the street.”

 

“Chocolate?”

 

“Chocolate.”

 

“Sweet!” Killua laughed, scampering over to the aforementioned fridge and wrenched open the door without care how hard it slammed into the nearby wall. He pulled out the slice covered by a piece of saran wrap and purred, happy as a kitten, as he took the biggest whiff he could from it. There was a bit of drool gathering on the corner of his mouth and he didn't bother to lick it away, either. “Mmmm... so fucking _good.._ ” 

 

“I know right?” Gon chuckled, rotating his closed _Nen-_ enhanced fist around in the air and examining the amount of aura encased within it. The serene, waterfall-like flow was content, calm; showing a skillful expertise even Killua envied somewhat. And he was the better trained one of the pair.

 

“Chocolate.” groaned a shameless Killua as he shoved bite after bite into his mouth, using his hands to eat from the plate haphazardly leaning in his lap. “I love chocolate.”

 

“I know Killua loves his chocolate.”

 

“No, no. Gon. I _really_ _love_ chocolate.” Killua put most of his emphasis on the word chocolate above anything, cerulean eyes fluttering in satisfaction with a purr. If this is what heaven felt like; liquor and chocolate making a dreamy combination, Killua would stay here forever.

 

“Of course you do.” muttered Gon, a roll of his eyes all he could spare, before he dropped the _Nen_ inside of his fist to turn and face the happy ex-assassin busying himself on devouring a large piece of chocolate cake with his bare hands. Scooting close, he leaned forward with his hands on his ankles and laughed, reaching up to wipe a couple crumbs from Killua's mouth with his thumb. “Killua is so in love with chocolate he's wearing it.” 

 

Gon licked off the pieces from his thumb with a smirk. Killua swooned a little in place at the soft touch, pinkish blush coloring his cheeks in surprise. The alcohol was messing with his head and his emotions but he wasn't paying attention to that fact as much as he did over Gon sitting over there looking almost as delectable as the cake did. “Hmmm. It's chocolate though. How can I resist it's tasty call?”

 

“I don't know.” Gon said, thumb returning to rub lazy circles against the side of Killua's mouth as he chewed, those honeyed orbs watching him intently with every bite. Killua felt small, excited shivers travel up and down his spine, unbidden and abrupt at the way those words rolled off Gon's tongue; hot, seductive almost. Was this what it was like when you were drunk and people touched you? Because Killua could do this more often if it felt _this_ nice. “It's hard to ignore something that tastes so good, don't you think? Especially when it's calling to you so.. so.. _desperately_ that it cries out for you to take it. _Eat_ it all up until there's nothing left.”

 

“That sounds sexual.” Killua blurted out thoughtlessly, not even pausing in his eating to stop himself from saying the obvious. Gon's thumb was brushing constantly against his lips, feeling the moisture gathered there from the heat building to the friction of that rough, tough skin against it. But it was enticing, that much Killua knew.

 

“Maybe it is.”

 

The ex-assassin's navy eyes widened, attentively watching Gon's hand work magic on his skin that he actually stopped in his eating just to focus in on it. With Gon's hand so close now, he could plainly see more scars in view, soft translucent white lines weaving like a tattoo from his wrist to part of his forearm; on both hands no less. There were several more smaller lines on his fingers, nicks and cuts but nothing too noticeably big or significant. It was enough Killua could even see them on such dark, tanned skin, that he was appreciative at least they were visible. Even if he was the only one seeing it right now.

 

They were the same as the ones on his lips. Exactly the same.

 

“Ne, Killua.” Gon's breath tickled his ear as the teenager leaned in to speak against it and Killua bit back a gasp, enjoying the feathery rush of air more then he'd like to admit. Blame it on the alcohol, indeed. “If Killua wanted it to sound sexual, all he had to do was say so.”

 

“What? I never said-”

 

Killua opened his mouth, to object, to  _deny_ the truth lurking in the furthest reaches of his mind, but Gon had firmly sealed anything that dare come out of his mouth with his own, effectively rendered silent. Killua muffled, his own eyes bigger then dinner plates, and he flailed pathetically until he settled as he felt Gon's lips start to caress his into parting, eliciting a small gasp from the paler of the two. Gon leaned over him, slowly, until Killua's back was pressed to the floor with Gon hovering above him, those scarred hands firmly clasping on either side of his head and holding him in place just like those scarred lips kept him pinned in a mouth-lock.

 

Chests pressed, Killua's skin was on fire; scalding hot, and itchy, but he didn't dare touch it, because the burn was oh, so  _pleasurable._ Gon's hands were weaving a spell over him, tickling and caressing his face into a full-blown flush; the sweet tang on Gon's tongue hypnotic, addicting. There was a bitter aftertaste, something torn between that horrible bleach smell and old, rancid chemicals that Killua faintly remembered as  _drugs_ , but he didn't care so much as he did about Gon's own taste, just barely on the edge of his saliva every time he lapped away a drop.

 

Tongues tangling, teeth gnashing, and lips smacking; their kiss didn't last long before Gon pulled away and left Killua gasping for more, breathless and airy. His fingers were twitching uncontrollably in Gon's direction while he stood back up and wiped his battered mouth with the back of those scarred, painted white and gray wrists of his.

 

“G-Gon.” breathed Killua, his sapphire eyes hooded with drunken lust, but Gon paid no heed and snickered; his own set of eyes just as dark and foreboding as the haze he himself was in.

 

“Pfft. I knew it.”

 

As Killua began to question exactly what Gon knew, he made his way out the door and shut it with a carefulness that shouldn't had been there. Not with that emotionless, devoid-of-life expression Killua had just received moments ago.

 

That was Killua's first kiss, too. And it just so happened to be with the guy he still had a maddening crush on; backed by the withdrawn, betrayed anger of his hurtful heart. His embarrassing blush was unfaithful to his motives. His constant rush of humble emotions were cheating on him. His fluttering organ in his chest; pumping blood to every vital part in his body, was definitely against his well-being. He wanted to; _willed_ himself to find some form of hate, some form of madness towards Gon, his once-best friend consumed by a world of drugs. But he wouldn't take any stupid excuse he could come up with. That undying, secretive love still could not be swayed by rage and Killua grimaced at the sad state reality left him in, lying cold, alone, and lost on the bare wood floor.

 

And so damned in love, still.

 

_Well, shit.  
_


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killua starts losing some sense of himself, fearing that Gon's probably long since passed that stage and he may not be so far behind now.

_" **His fingertips, were melted to the bone."** _

 

“I'm so proud of you guys! I can't believe you managed to do it.”

 

Leorio was patting both Gon and Killua's shoulders, laughing nonstop. Gon, too, was joining in the cheer, chuckling under his breath. Killua was impassive as ever, settling into a subdued, quiet giggle but keeping his line of vision nowhere near their overly happy faces. How uncomfortable he really felt compared to how he appeared was a clean understatement.

 

“Yep. We did a pretty good job, didn't we Killua?”

 

“Yeah, yeah, idiot. I know.” Killua snorted, sensing Gon's giant, impish grin trained on the back of his head. He would not look. Definitely would not look.

 

“What will you do now, then, Leorio?” Gon turned his attention back to the doctor-in-training and Killua let out the sigh of relief he didn't know he had been holding. “Are you going to return to studying to become a doctor?”

 

“Damn right I am! I'm going to be a doctor in no time, just you wait. When I come back next I'll be rubbing that medical license in your faces. Just as soon as I cram myself to the brink of death and pass those crazy exams. And with this,” He flashed his hunter license with a smile, “I'll pay all those ridiculous entry fees and breeze through the whole thing.” Leorio boomed, full of his usual piss and vigor as he fist pumped the air.

 

“I'll be glad to have that rubbed in my face then, Leorio.”

 

Killua rolled his eyes even though no one saw it. “Nasty. I'll pass.”

 

“Heh.” Another ruffle of both their hairs caught both boys attention onto him, and Leorio was smiling, _genuinely_ smiling; at least Killua thought so anyway, “I'm going to miss you guys a lot.”

 

“I'm going to miss Leorio, too.” Gon answered, Killua bobbing his head in wordless agreement.

 

“Don't worry. I won't be gone too long.” Leorio gave his two-fingered salute to the pair and laughed when they responded with their ' _Osu!_ ' they had learned from their _Nen_ master, their arms comically swinging cross-ways in front of them. “See you two soon, alright? Don't forget to call and drop me a line or I'll be sure to spam your phones! And believe me, when I say spam, I mean _spam._ ”

 

“ _Osu!”_

 

Killua was the only one who caught the strange look of concern flashing across on Leorio's face when they turned and parted ways, but he took no heed of it for the time being. He figured it might had been just a trick of his sight that picked up on it.

 

That had to be it, right?

 

As Killua and Gon were making their way back towards the hotel for the night, the snowy-haired teen blinked down at the fact Gon's hands were held securely fastened inside his short's pockets; a strange habit being mimicked from Killua himself most likely.

 

But the nagging curiosity he had since they stepped out to see Leorio off on his travels was gruesome, relentless. He gave in too quick.

 

“Hey, Gon.”

 

“Hm?”

 

“Why are your hands in your pockets? Are you cold?”

 

“Oh,” Gon said, unblinking and looking straight ahead down the street they walked, “No reason. I just felt like it.”

 

“You never stick your hands in your pockets because you _felt_ like it, Gon. Are you copying me?” A wiggle of Killua's eyes suggestively, just for the hell of it.

 

“What if I was? Is Killua going to do something about it, if I am?” Gon retorted, returning the gesture with a smug grin, nudging Killua hard in the side.

 

“Maybe.” Killua fought back a toothy smile and returned the nudge, twice as hard into Gon's rib cage. The two of them erupted into a playful round of pushing and shoving each other through the hustle and bustle of the crowded Yorknew city streets, all the way until they landed themselves back at their front door. Not once did Killua manage to pry Gon's hands from his pockets however.

 

“Hey, Gon. I'm serious.” he said, pocketing their room keys once he fumbled with the door knob enough to get it open, “What's with this new habit? You never put your hands in your pockets. It's just not.. not _you.”_

 

“What _is_ me then, Killua?” Gon asked, following behind his comrade through the door of their hotel room. He didn't even bother to shrug off his coat onto the hanger like he usually did, striding right off and straight into the kitchen.

 

As Killua took in a deep whiff of air, he realized the entire room reeked of drugs and alcohol and not the nice, sweet spice and musk he was used to breathing in every time he entered a place _Gon_ had filtered through. He grimaced at the thought.

 

He'd take being stranded in a forest with nothing but trees and animal life, no civilization or even electronics for that matter; if it meant remembering just a bit of what Gon smelt like before all this had happened.

 

He couldn't even really explain what _this_ was, anymore.

 

_This isn't you._

 

“Well?” Gon broke the chain of silence, popping around the corner to the kitchen, holding out a beer can towards Killua. “Answer! Killua is so slow!”

 

Killua opened his mouth to retort immediately; his flaring insults right at the tip of his tongue, but his gaze was all-consumed by the warped, disfigured things that were once Gon's hands, clutching onto his precious beer can. The scars from before were now even more prominent, weaving a pattern along his tan skinned wrists and a few pecking at the edges of his bony elbows. Killua's line of vision traveled up and back down again, as if double-checking there wasn't anything _new_ he should know about, before he wound back up at those grotesque set of fingers holding onto the can of booze.

 

His fingertips were completely gone.

 

There was a nasty, crimson darkness hanging on the tips of each finger; like he had dipped them individually into a burning vat of hot oil and left them there to soak for awhile. His skin was burning visibly, glowing in a halo of angry red. The rest of what remained on his nail beds were chalky white, powdery and coated from Meth; he guessed, but underneath he could see the faint outline of crusted blood. It was nothing like how Gon's hands used to be; strong and powerful and eager, curious to the world and always waiting to reach out towards something, grasp and hold on for dear life and never let go.

 

Gon used to have the hands of an innocent young boy.

 

_You're not Gon._

 

Now they just looked downright poisoned, impure; ripped from childhood and straight into reality.

 

“Earth to Killua.” Gon tapped the can of ice cold beer against Killua's brow, snapping him from his stupor. “Are you going to answer or just get straight to your drink? You do look awfully cute when you're all drunk. Even better when you're doing the harder stuff! Killua's face gets all puffy and red and silly and-”

 

“You-! You're so embarrassing. So, no! I'm not going to answer, sheesh! And _shut_ up!” Killua hissed at the sudden intrusion but took the drink anyway, flicking off the tab and taking the biggest swig he could, all in one gulp. Once he had his fill, his gaze fell down to Gon who was relaxing against the nearby wall in the kitchen, absently browsing through the last bit of food still surviving the insatiable hunger raids that were _Freecs and Zoldyck_. He had a tiny, rolled up white cigar perched on his lips; a plume of fog and smoke drifting up and around his head like a halo, and Killua felt his eyes instantly drawn to the sight.

 

Gon's moist, parted mouth look absolutely delectable; better than any sweet dessert Killua managed to get his hands on.

 

But..

 

_You're not Gon. Not anymore._

 

Killua turned away and didn't stare too long. He knew that if he did, he too, might admit that he was lost and no longer the same person he was once, so long ago; all as he sipped on his alcohol the same way Gon did his drug.

 

Thoroughly addicted and no longer the same.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killua's stuck between reality and fantasy and he's not so sure it's a good thing anymore.

**"I can still remember what his face looked like."**

 

A black, smelly permanent marker criss-crossed lines over the next date on the calender, leaving only three days still free from that mark. Gon nodded, satisfied, and dropped the marker back into its holder on the coffee table before he plopped back to the foot of the sofa and sighed.

 

“Three days left.”

 

“Three days left until we start Greed Island.” Killua affirmed, repeating his words out loud while he licked his way around the strawberry flavored lollipop at hand. “Did you send that letter to Mito yet? Telling her about it and how we'll be gone for awhile on Greed Island?”

 

“No. Not yet.” Gon said, reaching over their pitiful excuse for a table and shifting through the ransack of papers littered there. He was searching for the envelope, Killua knew, and he laughed the longer he watched Gon's face scrunch up in frustration the longer he went without finding it. “Damnit, where did it go?” grumbled Gon as he started tossing things left and right just to reduce the clutter. It didn't help. “It was here, I swear! I had it this morning!”

 

“Gon.” Killua only said once and that was more then enough to garner Gon's honey-eyed stare his way, his smirk growing a fraction bigger then necessary. In his right hand, he waved the aforementioned envelope like a white flag, and laughed as Gon's face rose in surprise. “Keep better track of your things. Like you do with your _drugs_ , moron.”

 

“Hai.” Gon rubbed the back of his neck in his typical sheepish gesture and took the envelope back from Killua before he dropped it on the table and picked out a stamp buried among the other trash on the floor.

 

“Did you even finish writing the letter yet?”

 

“I did.” Gon flashed the sloppily hand-written letter his way before neatly folding it into smaller squares until it was tiny enough to fit into the envelope. “Last night while you were out buying out an entire store's stock of whiskey.”

 

Killua snapped his fingers in dawning realization, completing side-swiping around Gon's accusation of Killua gorging himself on too much liquor lately. He couldn't find himself to care for some reason. “Ohhh. Right! So that's why you were so concentrated last night. I couldn't figure out what you were so invested in. I've never seen you so serious before!”

 

“Hey! I can be serious when it comes to Mito-san! This letter is important!”

 

“Right, right.”

 

“Killua!”

 

The white-haired teenager laughed, buckling over on his window perch while he held his gut in a giggle fit, tears in his eyes. “Hehehe. What, Gon? It's true. You can barely focus enough as it is! It's like a miracle or something you can even sit still for a minute without going insane.”

 

“I told you it's _three_ minutes that's my limit, not _one._ ” Gon bit back a growl, slapping the slobber-coated stamp onto its appropriate spot and cast a playful glare Killua's way. “Killua can't even last a minute without sipping his drinks anyway. He's not any better then me.”

 

Killua lowered the said glass filled with murky gold liquid from his mouth with his eyes narrowed in fake amusement, snorting. “ _Idiot._ I can last more then a minute. Better then you do when smoking that stinky ass drug.”

 

“It's not stinky. It's sweet kind of like you..” Gon magically procured a roll of it into the air, lighting it with _Nen_ , and puffing on it just once so he can blow a cloudy breath of white air Killua's way. “Here, smell it.”

 

“ _Fuck_ Gon, no-!”

 

_BANG. CRASH._

 

Killua flailed one time, slipped off the window sill, and collapsed on top of the bent remains of a rickety old metal stool, his drink now shattered into hundreds of glass pieces beneath him. He winced as soon as he sat up, large chunks of glass lodged successfully into his hand and arm, dripping blood onto the floor.

 

“Ow, shit.” He hissed, pulling out each one carefully so as to not deepen the wounds further. “Thanks a lot, Gon. Look what you made me do.”

 

“I didn't make you fall. You did. Killua needs to be more careful with what he's doing when he's holding a dangerous object.” Gon said matter-of-factually, but he scooted over to his friend regardless and helped take out the glass anyway before he handed Killua a rag.

 

“Now you sound like Mito.” commented Killua and Gon still, somehow managed to grin like it was a compliment.

 

“Maybe a little.”

 

As Gon helped Killua dress his bloody, scratched-up arm and hand, blue eyes eventually started to drift the longer he felt that warm, calloused touch working magic on his pale skin. They were almost firmly shut closed when something peculiar caught the corner of his eye and he blinked, pointing over at it to Gon.

 

“Hey, what's that?”

 

Noticing what Killua was seeing, Gon paused in wrapping one of Killua's bandages to grab the small photo buried beneath piles of endless discarded papers. “Oh. I was wondering where this went.” He flashed the picture to Killua; showing off the happy, still-life pair of Gon and Killua's faces upon it, both holding peace signs and dreamy grins as they hugged each others shoulders and posed. “Remember when we took this a long time ago? When we were at Heaven's Arena? I was going to send this to Aunt Mito in my letters but I kept on forgetting about it.”

 

“Let me see.” Gon handed him the photo. “I remember now. You had to have Zushi take this one because Wing kept smudging the camera lens with his finger. He couldn't figure out how to use the thing even though he's a damn adult!” Killua started to laugh as Gon nodded, exuberant.

 

“That one turned out the best so I wanted to send it to Mito-san for keepsake. Like I did with the group photo of all of us!”

 

“Haha. Yeah.”

 

Killua glanced down, absorbing the picture into his mind the longer he looked at it. He could just make out the small freckles on Gon's face; the ones that hardly shown unless enough light was cast upon his caramel skin, and the way they speckled around his nose and cheek bones like a starry night. His lips were chapped, thin, slightly dry, and Killua remembered constantly shoved endless amounts of chap stick into his face as a reminder to  _'take care of yourself better_ ' sort of thing. Gon just laughed and promised he'd  _try_ .

 

When he looked up, now, Gon's cheek bones were ashen and hollow; sunken and taut like he was suffering from a combination of malnutrition and dehydration. There was little meat left on his bones, little water to keep his skin slick like before. He was skinny, skinnier then Killua, and nothing like a  _Freecs_ should be. His outer layer was crusty, bits of dried skin falling off whenever Gon shifted, and no amount of chap stick, lotion, oil, and the like, would bring that shine back to his skin.

 

His once freckling stars were blinking out of existence right before his eyes and Killua didn't even need to guess how bad Gon's inner lay may be, to prove the case.

 

As he lingered on the photograph's resemblance of Gon, he could still make out the way Gon's onyx black hair carried that familiar sheen, glossy, like rocks painted with a fresh coat of moisture. Killua had been squeezing a tad too roughly then, so Gon looked to be having an inner battle between enjoying the moment between them or choking on his own breath. Now, Gon's hair was dull, tattered and disheveled because he hardly spent time to maintain it; like he couldn't care less about hygiene as long as he reeked of drugs, of death, then he'd keep right on going his merry way.

 

Killua didn't bother to hide the frown that curled on his lips.

 

Clearly, the sun shone bright on the boy in this picture; this _Gon._ But as Killua looked up, there was no light anymore. There wasn't dark just quite yet; not like how it shadowed Killua on his own end, but there certainly held no radiance here.

 

Of all the images in Killua's mind, as he watched Gon smile at him in two different times, two different versions of himself; he questioned himself if he'd ever get to see that familiar gift of perfection again light up anew.

 

“Yeah.” Killua said, one last time, even though his words never really reached his tongue and he wasn't really speaking to anyone in all honesty.

 

He never, really, ever was these days.

 

Later on that night, as Killua laid stretched out on their make-shift temporary bed just barely fit to hold two people (in this case two growing teenage boys who wrecked havoc and war every day on who gets the bigger share of the lacking space); he felt himself drowning in the faintly glowing light cast from his Beetle cellphone. It was pitch black inside the room after all – It was only feasible he'd become instantly absorbed in the only actual _light_ in the dark.

 

He'd been staring at the damned device for the past two hours. The same exact text message he'd yet to respond to but the reply just waiting patiently on the tip of his tongue, waiting to answer but Killua unable to sum up the energy to press **send**. All this has been transpiring since Gon; as usual, not-so-sneakily slipped out of their room to refill his quickly-used up stash of methamphetamine. His need for the drug had steadily increased to more then half the day spent immersing himself in the stuff.

 

And he kept track much to his own testament.

 

Killua shuddered at the thought, wishing they invented an air freshener strong and potent enough to outclass a highly dangerous and addictive back-alley drug. He'd consider proposing this someday to an inventor for sure.

 

While Killua's mind drifted, he looked to the side where Gon's own beetle phone lay abandoned on the coffee table. His childhood growing up as an assassin heightened his night vision so he could clearly see the outline of the phone from across the room, no less. And with drugs now on the foremost of Gon's consciousness, his phone and all his contacts were long forgotten. He knew this because he checked and would constantly re-add at least the important numbers and later finding them magically gone again. It was a miracle Killua even could shove the dang thing into Gon's backpack whenever they went out; he'd always seemed to 'miraculously' forget about it.

 

That was all total bullshit. Killua knew a blatant lie when he saw one.

 

After all, he's a pro now.

 

And Gon at least, for that matter, was still easy to ready. Mostly.

 

Blue eyes darted back to the bright illuminating phone screen, blinking fast to adjust to its light. He twisted and turned his wrist a little, like maybe by doing so the words on the phone might magically transform into something else. He even gave it a few experimental shakes in hopes that it might cause some unforeseen glitch and change the text message into another one or just downright delete it and allow Killua to play as if it had never happened.

 

Never been spoken from their friend's lips.

 

But, there was no avoiding it and Killua still wasn't sure how to proceed. He wanted to curse his friend off for figuring out the obvious, but at the same time knowing it'd be a useless struggle. A pointless waste of time trying to conceal what's as clear as the sky during the day; no clouds for cover or camouflage, no wind to distract you from the colorful sapphire sea up above, no rain or thundering storms to block out reality.

 

Was it even possible for Killua to lie himself out of this one, too?

 

**[11:33 P.M.] Leorio Paladiknight: I know you might be mad at me and Kurapika about what we said earlier on you at the diner a few weeks ago, but, I have to ask, because it's obvious I'm not going to get an answer out of the other one who's still ignoring all my calls and texts. I'm really worried, Killua. But, is Gon using drugs?**

 

Killua mechanically tapped at the screen a few times, watching the syllables pop into existence with every cold, numbing press of his finger tip to the flat, unforgiving device. But when the letters spelled out and reflected back into his own irises, into his mind, he couldn't bring himself to press the **send** button still, staring blankly ahead and past the device, into the darkness that surrounded him. Tendrils of chilling, deadly whispers and hands caressing him, touching him, talking to him nonstop and he couldn't get away. He couldn't fight it, couldn't beat it away with his _Nen._ He couldn't protect himself. It was everywhere and yet not anywhere at all, either. It wasn't real, but it felt like it was.

 

Was this what Gon's world comprised of? This nothingness. Enveloped in the embrace of addiction.

 

Was this their new reality?

 

If this is the closest Killua could get to Gon then maybe, _just maybe,_ he could afford to wait a little longer and make better sense of this. Understand at least a little bit better, before they broke.

 

Sighing to himself, eyes falling shut, Killua pressed the **send** button and dropped the beetle phone off the side of the bed; not bothering to look or care if he got a reply. His closed eyes cut off the light from the phone, leading him back into the world of darkness. Was this his new home now?Was this where he was supposed to be? Where he was fated to end up? Because he realized, somewhere deep inside, that even if Gon had indeed changed in the slightest, strayed from his Enhancer's characteristics like he'd been swayed by the irresistible taste of poison; it was Killua who had not changed.

 

He was exactly as a Transmuter would be.

 

Fickle and dishonest.

 

**[1:47 A.M.] Killua Zoldyck to Leorio Paladiknight: No.**

 

Yet, it seemed, no matter how much Killua kept lying to himself, fought to convince himself with all his willpower; he knew it was impossible to deny the truth of the matter.

 

He'll never get used to this.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killua and Gon finally tumble down together but Killua's not so sure they're both coming back out of it in one piece.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of Yorkshin Arc and moving into Greed Island. From there, I'm skipping the chorus to do the second part and the chorus will be the final-to-last chapters. Again, I know this has a lot of time skips so.. Ima just go with it and see what happens. Thanks again to all the feedback and stuff b: I'm not really sure how to feel about this chapter cause it seems out of place but all well THIS IS WHAT I GET FOR WRITING WHATEVER COMES OUT OF MY CRAZY FILLED HEAD.
> 
> Enjoy.

“ **When I found him in the alley, in the middle of the Night.”**

 

“ _I can't do this! I can't!”_

 

“ _Fuck- Gon, stop! You're destroying the whole fucking place! Do you want us to get in trouble?!”_

 

“ _NO! Shut up! Leave me alone!”_

 

“ _Gon! Calm the hell down for fucks sake. You're not going to die so get a hold of yourself!”_

 

“ _GO AWAY!”_

 

“ _Not until you settle down and stop freaking out. It's going to be okay so CALM DOWN, IDIOT.”_

 

“ _I can't. I just- I can't. I can't do this. It's not going to work. I'm not going to make it. I can't-!”_

 

“ _STOP IT MORON. YOU HAVE TO STOP.”_

 

“ _NO!”_

 

“ _GON-”_

 

_**SMASH.** _

 

“Zepile!”

 

Sometime nearing midnight on the bustling streets of Yorkshin, Zepile was making his way back towards the airport and prepared to meet his flight by two in the morning, when his name was unexpectedly called from behind. The man with the magnificent set of curled up eyebrows turned just in time to step back as Killua came skidding to a halt right beside him, his shoes squelching on the wet cement until he stopped. He obviously had been running at quite a speed to perform such a long sliding maneuver. There were tread marks left behind.

 

“Killua? What are you doing? It's pouring rain and almost midnight.” Zepile frowned, adjusting his umbrella overhead. Killua hadn't even bothered to come with one; he was drenched to the bone and his clothes were plastered to his skinny frame. He could clearly see the outlining of his ribs, his muscles, his sharp and cutting angles. But it wasn't his daunting appearance that sent chills up the appraiser 's spine; it was the distressed, panicked look of a normally very-composed and calm teenage boy. On top of that; there were two baseball-sized bruises on his face, under his eye and around his slightly swollen jaw. The rest of him looked worse for wear and Zepile wondered how bad his soaking clothes hid his real state of appearance. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

 

“Gon-” Killua wheezed as he gasped for air, bent down to rest as he grabbed onto his knees for support. His breathing was ragged, hoarse. Zepile wondered if he had been crying from the way his voice trembled; shook like leaves in a storm, branches battling the wind's turbulence. “-Gon is. He's. I. We were.”

 

“Calm down, first. Then explain what's going on once you catch your breath.” Zepile offered, stepping forward with his umbrella cover so at least some of the pounding rain wouldn't lead Killua to hypothermia.

 

When the cerulean eyed teen finally pulled himself back upright again, he placed a hand on his head and shuddered, facial expression obviously disturbed. There was a nice laceration hiding behind his long bangs and now Zepile clearly saw the bit of fresh blood dripping there. He gulped. “I can't find Gon. Have you seen him?”

 

“Gon? No, I haven't.” hummed Zepile, glancing left and right just in case he did happen to spot him if he were missing. “Why? What's wrong?”

 

“He's been missing for the last two hours and I can't find him.” Killua grimaced, blue eyes dark. He hung his head low, shamefully, and his pale skinned face turned dark as well. “We had a fight.” He added, as an afterthought; the bite and sting of his words doing little to mask the pain he must have suffered from.

 

“Did he mention where he was going? Anything at all that we can use a lead?”

 

“No.”

 

“What about any places in Yorkshin that he might go? Any places you've visited that he shown a liking to?”

 

“No.”

 

“Nothing at all?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

Sighing, Zepile pulled out his cell phone and flashed it towards Killua even though he didn't bother to look up when he did. “Did you try calling him? Do you want me to try, too, just in case?”

 

“He left his phone behind back at the hotel.”

 

“I guess that rules those options out then.” Zepile pocketed his phone again and passed his umbrella down to Killua who was so startled he took several steps back out of reflex, only relaxing slightly when he realized it was just him and no one else. “Here, take this. You're freezing cold. Maybe you should go back to the hotel and change your clothes.”

 

“I'm not cold.” Killua protested weakly even as he was shaking from head to toe. It wasn't a total lie. He was just a _little_ cold. “And I don't need to change my clothes. I need to find Gon.”

 

“You'll be frozen solid at the current rate you're going, then.” Zepile's crazy brows rose to his hairline and he took note of the convenience store _conveniently_ located right next to them. He glanced back and set a hand on Killua's shoulder, feeling the rock-hard tenseness beneath those bones, and did his best to smile if it may just ease the pressure. “Wait here. I'll get you something to change into and then we'll look for Gon.”

 

“I can't wait-” But Zepile was inside before Killua could even finish his sentence.

 

In the time it took for Killua to resolve the mental battle he was having within himself on whether or not he should continue his search alone or with help; Zepile returned with a fresh warm, over-sized coat and a poncho since the store wasn't as convenient as he had hoped it'd be. But it was more then enough and Killua slipped them on as they started their trek down Yorkshin's busy, late night streets still flooded with bustling night-goers and black-owls.

 

“What were you two fighting about, if I may ask?”

 

Killua bit his lip, not responding immediately, but he figured it'd be best if Zepile at least knew a little about what was going on. They had trusted Zepile through thick and thin and he had finished his task well; it was the least Killua could do but not lie _completely_ to him.

 

And he knew Zepile was leaving and had very little correlation to Leorio and Kurapika; the nagging pair of surrogate parents to Gon and Killua whom he did _not_ need the hassle from. At least in this case, he could get away with leaking out at least some of the true.

 

“He's out of drugs.”

 

“What-?”

 

“He ran out of drugs. And we were fighting about it, because he doesn't have enough to last through Greed Island and he doesn't know what to do.”

 

“Gon's doing drugs? Since when?” Zepile looked shocked, no, _was_ shocked. He knew Gon had an innocent curiosity but he never fathomed it would lead to such an outcome. Never.

 

“Awhile now. But he's out so he was pretty upset.”

 

“Oh man.” The appraiser said, eyes downcast and following the sidewalk that they walked upon. “I can't believe it.”

 

“He destroyed the room in a fit and stormed off before I could stop him. The management was pissed and kicked us out.” Monotone voice for a monotone face; blank and devoid of emotion, that was Killua right now. Zepile's frown deepened, forehead creased and stiff. “Tomorrow we leave for Greed Island and I can't even _fucking_ find him because he decided to have a temper tantrum like a little kid and leave. He's such a stinking idiot, it's ridiculous.” Then he laughed, a cold, deathly laugh; hollow and numb, betraying the shell in which Killua has built up in dealing with Gon's new addiction.

 

All crumbling down. Right in front of him.

 

“Isn't that stupid?” He continued before Zepile could even fit in a word, his tears blending with the rain droplets on his cheek. There was no stopping him now that the dam was starting to burst. No way in Hell. He never intended to get this far into detail with their temporary cohort, but he couldn't back down now. “It is dumb. How we're fighting over something so undeniably _stupid_ that something like this had to happen? Gon just up and leaves and what? For _drugs._ For fucking DRUGS. You know that's all he ever cares about now, right? He only ever talks about it every five seconds when I'm not interrupting his _smokes_. He cracks, like, ten or twenty joints a _day_. Everything we own reeks of that shit. Isn't that so stupid?”

 

_Pop. Click. Fizzle._

 

Out of nowhere, Killua had a can of beer at hand and was chugging it down in huge, greedy gulps with Zepile standing off to the side, gaping huge holes through the white-haired teen's skull.

 

“Since when did you drink?!”

 

“ _Fuck._ ” Killua's foul mouth lived on when he swallowed the last of his beverage, crushed the can into a flat, pitiful lump of its former self, and discarded it out on the streets as he walked on, not bothering to look back at his litter. “Who cares. Who fucking cares, anyway? Why should I care? I don't care. I don't care one bit.”

 

Zepile was reaching out, like maybe, just maybe he'd have the confidence to grab hold of the other; stop him maybe from something bad he'd fear may happen at any moment. But he was five paces behind Killua and there was no chance he'd be reaching him in his current state. “Killua-”

 

“What?”

 

“I think you really need to stop this-”

 

Killua whirled around, fangs and claws at the ready, a hiss on the breath caught between his lips; when he spotted him. Spotted Gon.

 

With a deer-caught-in-the-headlights look, Gon's eyes widened. He was no more then twenty feet behind Zepile clutching something to his chest, blacked-out in the darkness of the unforgiving, chilly night, before he was nothing but a blur as he took off running in the opposite direction.

 

“ _Shit_ \- GON-!”

 

“Wait, Killua! Stop!” Zepile spun on his heel, hand still outstretched and reaching, but he grappled with air and found nothing for his hand to grasp as Killua sprinted off in the direction Gon went. He dropped his hand and sighed, head shaking some of the water in his hair a moment until he took off after them, no where close to matching their speed, but giving it his all regardless. “Damn kids. Leorio was right. They are a handful!”

 

_A pain in the ass handful for certain._

 

“Gon!” Killua was in pursuit, just a couple feet away, as Gon's heavy forest green boots padded in the puddles forming on the pavement. Water was splashing every which way from their insane pace, causing random passerby people to cuss and shout at them, even swing a few limbs and miss for the hell of it. Killua felt one punch to his side travel all the way up his head; a pounding headache soon to come. He trailed behind Gon all the way until he took a swift turn and straight into an alleyway; a wrong move on his part as Killua had him cornered the second he stepped foot into that short, dead-end road. The foremost wall was too high for even Gon's unnatural climbing skills to ascend over.

 

It was no one but the two teenage boys now, standing each other down on opposite ends of the line. Neither backing out.

 

Killua was first to speak, taking one step forward as Gon matched with one of his own steps back. He rolled right into talking, unable to hold himself back as the panic and fear leeched off of him; forced him to his knees in submission, and proceeded to ramble on and on for the sake of relieving just an ounce of that _pain._ “Gon. What the hell are you doing? Where have you been? I've been looking for hours for you! What the _fuck_ is your problem? Do you know how worried I was? I was freaking out so bad that I was so stinking close to-”

 

“Killua.” Gon's voice broke the surface of Killua's disengaging, whirlwind of emotions casting like a haze on his mind; a noxious cloud of negativity worming its way in. Like how the drug wormed its way into their life, unbidden and unwanted. Gon was still the embodiment of light in Killua's world, even if his soul no longer carried that same quality. “Stay where you are.”

 

“The hell? No!” Killua said instantly, trudging forward, but Gon's shout made him cease in his movements, eyes bulging.

 

“ _NO, KILLUA. YOU STAY THE HELL WHERE YOU ARE RIGHT NOW OR ELSE!”_

 

“...”

 

“Gon-”

 

“Be quiet, Killua, and listen to what I have to say.”

 

The tremble in Gon's tone was unmistakable, even Killua could recognize the shift in pitch from a mile away and his ears were nowhere near the level Gon's were. But he heard it, and so, he stopped in his tracks, arms hanging loosely at his sides, jaw tight as teeth drew blood to his lips, his damp face moist with red on top of blue.

 

“Killua.” Gon continued when his amber eyes made contact with sapphires. “I made the decision and I'm not going to participate in Greed Island.”

 

Those words took several minutes to sink into Killua's mind, his chest, in his heart and he swallowed past the newly found lump there with a grimace. “What?” He started out slow, deliberately licking the blood from his lips. There was a pit in his stomach; a hard, lancing stone settled there that made him feel sick, nauseous; _hurt_. And Killua just couldn't fathom _why_ , really. His brain was slow to process it as he gulped, twitching in place. “What did you just say?”

 

“I'm not going to Greed Island.”

 

“ _Fucking Hell_ , Gon, WHAT?” Killua all but shouted, lurching forward and his claws retracted, glistening in the light of the nearby street lamp. Gon's words were finally catching up to him and they were not good in the least. “Are you _fucking_ kidding me?What do you mean you're not going?!”

 

“I just said-”

 

“Screw what you said!” Tossing up his arms, Killua stomped right over towards Gon and snatched him up by the collar of his jacket, yanking him to his feet and causing Gon to drop the stuffed back pack he was carrying in his arms. Killua leaned in close, venom on every drip drop of his words, all hissing and baring their fangs in Gon's direction now. But as quickly as it had started, it was falling away towards something else entirely and that was what Killua dreaded the most. “You can't tell me you're suddenly quitting now. Not after all the shit we went through to get here. This is _Greed Island_. We spent so much money and so much time trying to track it down and we finally have our spot to play and you're telling me now you don't _wanna_?! Do you know how much effort I put into helping you through this? All the stuff I did? For what? NOTHING? This sucks. This _fucking_ sucks! It hurts! Damnit, it _HURTS!_ Fuck. FUCK ALL OF THIS!”

 

“Killua-”

 

“NO. NO. FUCK.” Killua repeated and dropped Gon unceremoniously to the ground, not caring if it hurt his scrawny ass either, as he glowered down at his friend with a look that could kill at first glance. His voice was rising in pitch the longer he repeated himself but Killua couldn't bring himself to care. “ SHUT UP! No. No. No. NO. NO. _NO. NO. NO!_ ”

 

He was in denial, he knew, but couldn't bare to tell himself just that; clutching frantically at his shaggy mane of white hair, eyes strung out and pupils dilated. Killua fell to his knees, slamming his fists into the puddling water in front of him and screamed out as loud as he possibly could, voice cracking the throw of emotion being unleashed. The umbrella in Killua's hands fell to the side, clattering onto the ground and abandoned now. Zepile's heavy foot falls landed behind them in the alleyway and he stopped to stare in the same shocked awe Gon wore, rendered paralyzed in that instant.

 

Tears were flooding cerulean eyes like a overflowing river, pooling on his cheeks in the same way the rain from above had. They were dripping fast to the ground Killua stared upon, doe-eyed and sniffling to breathe as small sobbing sounds ripped from his throat against his better will. There was no fighting it now; it was too late to stop himself. Killua spared one last look up towards Gon, seeing those amber eyes locked in his direction, frozen in the same fear Killua was facing. Images flashed before his own vision; of times when Gon was sitting in that same exact position, beaming proudly, laughing carelessly, downright happy. They jumbled together into an incomprehensible blur, tangling between those pleasant moments to the dreary one laid out before him now; dead.

 

It stole every last vestiges of hopefulness in Killua's poor, pathetic soul, that he dropped his head to the pavement and screamed out another sob again, louder then the first, pounding his fists again and again into the cement until his knuckles bruised and his nails bled.

 

_Why? Why did it come to this? How could it have gotten this bad?_

 

_What did I do wrong?_

 

_**It's my fault.** _

 

_Was it because of me? Because I didn't stop him?_

 

_Did I do something to change his mind?_

 

_When did it become like this?_

 

_**It's my fault.** _

 

_Was I wrong? Was it me?_

 

_Why now? What about his dreams? His goals?_

 

_What about finding his father? Ging?_

 

_What changed?_

 

_**It's all my fault.** _

 

_Gon._

 

_It's not you. It never was you, was it?_

 

_It was me. Right?  
_

 

_GON!_

 

_**IT'S ALL MY FAULT-!** _

 

Killua was on the verge of screaming out again, to throw it all away, to give his life to the death dealer knocking on his door; when something completely unexpected happened. His entire body had been shaking so violently and uncontrollably that his limbs were weakening by the second, threatening to pull him the rest of the way to the hard, unforgiving cement below. If it weren't for Gon's strong, overbearing arms grabbing hold of him, grappling him into an embrace, Killua surely would have fell to the depths below.

 

The next moment Killua managed to blink his sight back into some semblance of normalcy, he was staring at Gon's green-clad shoulder, being cradled with an astounding gentleness he'd never experienced before. Warm, soothing arms wound around his back and middle, clinging almost, and squeezing him against the others chest so hard his own frantic, pounding heartbeat resonated with a much more calmer one. Gon's ticklish breath was billowing against his ear, the scratch of a bit of stubble and hair brushing his cold cheeks, making him shiver unintentionally.

 

But, most of all, he could feel Gon's smile on him from miles of away, focused on him entirely; and in that moment he'd never experience, he still couldn't clutch onto the idea that this was reality and not a dream.

 

“Gon..?”

 

His words died on his tongue, hoarse and strangled like the cry that had bubbled up and been frozen in time, and Gon's cheek brushed over his, a whisper of his own name hot against his skin like a metal brand, everlasting. Killua shuddered helplessly, sniffling on his own tears, before he buried his own face against Gon's exposed, offered shoulder and inhaled deep the faintest scent of pine and earth buried behind that bleached, sweet falsetto of those drugs. His nails dragged across the soft, soaking wet fabric of Gon's jacket, but he didn't care as long as he could hold Gon like this; be  _ held  _ like this, locked in this moment together.

 

The tears that came, harder then before; Killua didn't fight to stop this time, and Gon hugged him tighter then he'd ever been held before. “Killua.” His name again, another shiver. “I'm so,  _ so  _ sorry.”

 

“What..?”

 

It was hard for Killua to talk coherently, words slurred, but Gon shook his head and rocked them back and forth, rubbing circles over his trembling, shaken up form. “I didn't realize I was hurting you this much. I really was hurting Killua a lot, wasn't I? I was being stupid- I never- I just didn't get it. But seeing you like this, seeing Killua cry, really opened my eyes. It made me realize something, too.”

 

Killua struggled to ask 'What' but Gon beat him to the punch, placing a chaste kiss to his brow when he pulled away to do so, lips firmly planted against his forehead. Killua's blue eyes widened, a gasp dying out on his lips, and Gon drew back just enough to speak again; that familiar smile back on his mouth again. “You are right. I was losing sight of my original plans. I  _ do _ want to find Ging. I  _ do  _ want to play Greed Island. With you. I want to do those things with you. And I guess I was just being a totally selfish idiot about it that I made you upset. I'm sorry. I never knew how much I was hurting you.”

 

“Gon.”

 

Killua buried his face further into Gon's broad, open and waiting torso and murmured, shaking his head back and forth. “ _ No. _ ” He said, but it was the lowest sounding word he could force out, not letting go this time. He wouldn't let go, he promised himself.  


“Killua. I promise I'll do better from now on, okay? So, I hope you can forgive me. We'll do Greed Island together this time. And I'll make amends.”

 

Killua couldn't forgive him, not yet. Even though this was _Gon_ and for Gon he would do absolutely anything. Almost. But the promise was something else entirely. Killua knew he could keep his promise, for the most part and for the time being, but as Gon's own vow reached his ears; he wondered in the back corners of his shadowed, weary mind.

 

Would Gon really keep his promise, too?

 

“I promise, Killua.”

 

Killua really hoped so even if half of him really doubted it.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killua and Gon are forced to help keep each other standing; if only for a moment, when their crutches are ripped away too soon for them to stay upright on their own.
> 
> [Warning: Sexual Content]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greed Island Arc starts here.
> 
> Late bday chappy for Kihana lol. 
> 
> I was gonna post this on ur birthday (the 4th) but I didn't finish it in time. So here it is. Just a bit of good stuff cuz Killugon and somehow this ties into my plot. Updates will be a little more slow now since I'm caught up with my original amount I had written. So expect every few days or so hopefully. I have the chapters planned out just gotta write them. So I gotta get my butt to work ehhhh... AND YES I FIRMLY BELIEVE KURAPIKA IS STILL GAY ANYWAY EVEN IF NOT EVERYBODY WANTSA SHIP HIM WITH LEORIO D: OKAY SHHHH.
> 
> Again, thank u guys for supporting me c: Mufufu. HAPPY LATE BDAY GON/ME CUZ WE SHARED THE SAME BDAY WHAAAA dkshkjfgfd.
> 
> ENJOY.

“ **Three days, no sleeping.”**

 

Killua rolled over on their make-shift bed of leaves and sticks situated on a cool, damp spot of the forest floor; just so he could stare at the back of Gon's head. As hard as Gon was pretending, he just couldn't fool Killua into believing he was asleep. It was easy to tell when someone was stuck in that familiar sleep pattern; the way their bodies rose and fell, their very own breaths, and the flutter of their eye lids and mouth. Right here, Gon was stiff as a plank of wood and constantly fidgeting so their bed of leaves never quite stayed in place. His movements were jerky, like he had something lodged uncomfortable up his ass and trying to move even an inch made him seem like a broken-down robot. The uneven, hoarse whispers and gasps Gon gave off was more then enough stipulation to know he was wide awake; struggling to rest, and that was what had Killua on edge more then anything.

 

Three days. Gon hadn't slept for three days.

 

They thought Greed Island would be a piece of cake, really, but it was becoming more of a pain in the ass then any. Not only did the game require a certain currency to buy _anything_ (all their saved up cash was a waste to bring), but the people competing were brutal about attacking those who didn't carry any appropriate _spell_ cards on them every time you got your hands on something useful.

 

No amount of bullshitting around got them any luck whatsoever.

 

So, dirt poor, likely flooded with a long list of identifiable spells they had no clue were the side effects, and nothing much in their stomachs; the two boys resolved to staying as far away from the nearest city as possible. At least until they found this 'Masadora' or whatever; the city of magic, and finally get a one-up on all the other players.

 

And even now; huddling close for warmth in the woods, trying to out beat the cold, was the least of their problems really even if Killua wasn't remotely prepared to handle the uncomfortable closeness they shared between them since.

 

It was the lingering odor of chemicals that made the sores in Killua's mouth ache, nothing like the ache Killua knew Gon must be in drug withdrawal.

 

As far as anybody knew, methamphetamine _may_ not exist on Greed Island, which meant Gon was without for the duration of their stay until they found a way back to the real world. Alcohol was another story; alcohol existed _everywhere._ While Killua could make do, it was Gon he fretted over. Even against the harsh berating from Killua, Gon insisted to go cold-turkey and abandon drugs altogether for his friend's sake. Make 'amends' he said. Be 'better' he said. Drug ' _free_ ' he said.

 

Gon said a lot of things but Killua doubted he'd remember even half of them.

 

He figured; no, knew Gon was realizing his terrible mistake right about now that Killua had warned him about, because he would not stop _shaking_. Every limb of his was trembling, uncontrolled and jerky movements that occasionally kicked out where they laid; adding to the long list of bruises Killua kept so tight-lipped over. _It's for Gon's sake,_ Killua reminded himself, even if the pain tried to protest otherwise and deter him from his path towards forgiveness.

 

Killua wouldn't be taking that apology anytime soon until Gon smelled like pine needles and wood again; like the forest trees and fresh autumn leaves as he should be.

 

But, he did regress; he did feel some semblance of Gon's pain, truth be told. Killua wouldn't admit to himself on the matter, but he had developed his own problem in the meantime; using his alcohol binge as a crutch to shoulder the heavy emotional burden of having a drug addict for a best friend. Hell, most of his money and then some had gone into booze, recycling the bottles and cans to help pay towards the next load. Alcohol had taken precedence over his ever-present love for sweets and chocolate – Killua still wondered how it became so wrong, so fast. The buzz and fog of that bitter, terrible-tasting liquid had become his own brand of poison; something Killua was slowly finding he couldn't bear without.

 

And now, as they lay curled up together; shaking and quivering in unfulfilled need, Killua knew exactly how Gon felt abandoning his drugs for his best friend's sake. He missed his temporary support more then ever right now, but, he needed to be Gon's support right _now_ instead.

 

Gon needed him. _Still_ needed him, didn't he? Could he still be his crutch, even now?

 

“Gon.” Killua said quietly, voice cracking from the strain of his own shakes, as he reached out and touched that shivering, tensed-up shoulder. Gon gasped, the cool skin on the exposed nape of his neck tickling, but he didn't move; only stilling. “Gon, turn around.”

 

He did and Killua saw those shimmering, golden hues brimmed in silver blue tears; the moonlight cast between the branches overstretching the night sky making Gon look more starry-eyed then ever. His yellow eyes were like his own personal fireworks show. Killua was breathless; the magic he'd missed seeing in Gon finally shedding _that_ light since what's felt like forever, and he couldn't tear his gaze away as he stared, helpless. He was so entranced by the beauty of his best friend that he totally forgot the fact Gon was crying and he had to smack both sides of his face a moment just to bring himself back out of his sick fantasy and trade it for reality.

 

The lack of alcohol was making him sentimental.

 

“Gon, are you okay? Why are you crying? What's wrong?”

 

“I'm okay.” Gon answered, voice distraught but controlled, and a smile forced its way onto his lips that shouldn't had been there. He scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his wrist a moment and those pearly droplets were gone. Those amber irises were a little dimmer because of it, Killua noticed. “I'm just a little upset. I didn't think Greed Island would be this hard.”

 

_Liar. You're going through withdrawal._

 

“Neither did I.” Killua admitted against those contradictory whispers in the back of his head, ashamed at himself. He was supposed to be the 'game' expert; spending countless years wasting his childhood away indulging in the world that was mindless made-up lands with no benefit to his life whatsoever. He expected himself to have been better at this, but he was not, and he was most ashamed for it indeed. “Maybe we weren't as prepared as we thought we were.”

 

“Ne, I'm cold, Killua.” Biting his lower lip, Gon looked up and Killua had to tilt his chin higher so his bangs wouldn't deceive him of the expression Gon was giving him. “Can I hug you? You know – share body warmth?”

 

Swallowing nervously, heat hovering at the edge of his jawline and threatening to reach his cheeks at the thought of Gon's arms around him, again, in such a state as this one. They were alone this time; perfectly and utterly alone, and both were feeling pretty damned emotional. And Killua really wanted to be cuddled for some unexplained reason. If Gon was willing to offer, could he really say no? This would be a perfect opportunity as any to indulge a little. Just a little. Right? They had been through a rough and hopeless three days. It was perfectly reasonable to want to be comforted, even if it meant him lowering himself to a child longing for their parent's support.

 

But there was nothing wrong with that, _right_?

 

Gon was still his friend. There was nothing wrong with wanting your friend to comfort you.

 

_That's completely normal._

 

“Sure, Gon.”

 

Gon scooted closer, even closer until their chests were pressed flush and their legs tangled up around each other, uncertain how to be positioned in the way they were laying together. Gon moved tentative at first; Killua remaining absolutely still so his friend could choose the way he wanted them to be, before those warm, strong arms pushed between the small spaces of Killua's armpits and grasped at the fabric on his back. Pale skin shivered but Killua continued to stay in place, watching attentively as Gon calculated their positions and factored in their own sizes until their legs were slotted together and foreheads leaning against another as a brace.

 

“Hey, Killua.” Gon's breathy whisper blew hot on his nose, Killua's eyes fluttering shut at the soft sensation of air on his face. “Is this okay? Being this close?”

 

Killua didn't even need to think much on it to nod his head automatically, a sigh falling from his half-closed lips. His heart rate was accelerating by the second from such close physical contact, unable to be stopped. “Yeah.” _No._

 

“And what about this?” continued Gon as big hands slid across the junction of Killua's shoulders and up his partly exposed spine until those fingers caressed at the back of his neck. Killua hissed but did not shy away from the touch. “Is this okay too?”

 

“..Yeah.” _No._

 

Gon's fingers wiggled forward before carding through the longer-than-normal strands of silver hair gathered around the base of Killua's neck. He was due for a hair cut sometime soon. Goosebumps ran beneath the pads of Gon's fingers and he hummed, the barest of smiles flitting on the corners of his lips. He begun to rub circles across the back of his scalp, right in the most pleasurable spots that had Killua going lax in the knees and he wasn't even standing. “This too?”

 

“Y-yeah.” _No!_

 

“All of this?” The rapid conjunction of Gon's frantic heart beat thundering against his ribs could be felt all the way through their clothes and back over to Killua, drawing a gasp from the white-haired teenager as Gon leaned in closer, sealing the space between them with their own bodies. The only thing that had yet to connect were their mouths and if Killua even dared move a centimeter their lips would be melting as one. “Everything I'm doing is okay with Killua?” That enticing, primal whisper bating Killua with his mystery taste, dying to get his hands, his _mouth_ on it, all over it; and Killua fought the urge to just throw himself onto Gon then and there. When did the guy become such so good at seducing? “Does this make you feel good?”

 

“G-Gon.” Killua reflexively began to lean back, as if terrified of his own feelings lurking in the back of his mind, but it was Gon who pulled him towards him and effectively cutting off further protest, further fight; as their lips met in a hard, forceful kiss. All the air Killua had been gathering up in anticipation was leeched away, gone, and the ex-assassin gasped again into the kiss which in turn allowed Gon's tongue to slide in and touch at his own. Killua wasn't sure how long it lasted; whether an hour or even just a minute, maybe even a second, that their tongues were getting tangled up, teeth gnashing, lips bruised from the rough colliding, and saliva pooling in a thick rope between them as they pulled away to both gulp in greedy lungfuls of air they'd lost from their kiss.

 

_No. This isn't okay._

 

**Yes. It is okay.**

 

“Killua.” said Gon, just once, and amber eyes stared determinedly into a dazed, unfocused blue. Where had all this confidence come from? Killua felt immobilized, torn apart by that secret crush for his best friend he wrote off a long time ago as being stupid, wrong, _a mistake_ ; and here it was returning full force and hard, telling him otherwise. Saying, letting him know, _promising_ , that it was okay to want this, to want Gon still. After all they had been through, all the hurt and heart break and no more drugs or alcohol to come between them, no more distractions – would it finally be okay for Killua to pursue these feelings? Give into what he wanted?

 

Was this okay?

 

_No._

 

**Yes.**

 

For some reason, Killua's tired and idle brain from the lack of his own narcotic wasn't functioning properly because he couldn't down right make up his  _ mind _ about what he wanted. There was nothing logical coming to him, no reason or rhyme, or even excuses or opinions. He felt completely and utterly blank.

 

The single thing that lingered there was none other then Gon himself.

 

Just Gon. Only Gon.

 

_Gon._

 

“Gon-” Killua began, opening his mouth wider to talk, to try and say something or anything for that matter, but Gon took the initiative; like maybe he knew how Killua felt in this situation and he was given silent permission to act out. Gon silenced Killua's own verse of his name with another kiss and that was all it took for the pair of boys to erupt into a frantic frenzy of grab and pull. Emotions boiled over like a volcano and burst from the top, a wildfire in their blood; an explosion of fire works. The countdown on their internal timers went off and _click,_ they were at it.

 

Gon rolled Killua over onto his back, laying atop him, as blunt nails scrabbled and scratched across pale, porcelain skinned cheeks and another hiss bit the air between gritted teeth. Killua's own sharp fingertips clawed at Gon's jacket, his shirt, until there was nothing but bare caramel skin pressing him down into the mussed up leaf bed beneath them. His own clothes were quickly discarded, tossed aside, and Gon was dragging dark reddish lines across the newly exposed torso until Killua involuntary kicked out and whined so Gon had to pull away and miss taking a hit.

 

Instead, the tanner of the two dropped lower and hooked his thumbs into the waistband of Killua's shorts and pulled them away, not caring how far they went when thrown, before he leaned down and started pecking kisses around that flat, toned navel. Killua's hips bucked, a jerky moan wrenched behind his mouth concealed behind his wrist. A few experimental nips later had Gon gently peeling away the last layer that kept the Zoldyck from being totally bare to the world, pooling it at his thighs while his warm, moist lips led a trail of hungry saliva from his pelvis to the faint patch of pubic hair peeking out at him.

 

Nuzzling his nose into it, Gon inhaled deep and laughed, the silver hairs tickling at his nostrils. “Your pubic hair is soft and it smells a little sweet like your aura.”

 

“S-shut up, _idiot._ ” Killua ground out between his teeth and leaned up off the ground just enough for his navy-eyed glare to reach Gon who only laughed more in return. “Stop smelling it like some fricken dog. You're a human, Gon. Not an animal.”

 

Gon; against Killua's better judgment, proceeded to start lapping at the albino's halfhearted erection to prove a point and Killua's voice hitched as he twisted with another groan too quick for him to stifle. Killua's back thudded onto the forest floor and he arched, clean off the leaves while that tongue performed magic on the underside of his cock. If he wasn't partly hard before he definitely would be now. He groaned, hips wiggling, toes curling, and he gripped uselessly into the piles of leaves at his side until he managed to rip out clods of dirt and grass. “ _Fuck._ ” Killua whimpered. Gon's mouth was sucking on his balls and Killua could feel the strange yet pleasant sensations shoot up his spine like a spark of electricity only better, “G-Gon. H-Holy _shit,_ that feels good.”

 

“Does it?” Gon's hot, teasing breath chuckled against the pinkish colored sack; that pale skin blushing almost as radiant as the noticeable red color peppering Killua's cheeks. “Killua looks like he feels good.” Those pointed canine teeth nibbled around the shaft, giving it a few experimental hard sucks and Killua was moaning true, like a penthouse whore, and bucking into that mouth for more. Gon's fingers coiled around his length and squeezed hard, almost painfully, at the too-exuberant thrusts Killua did and the throb of Gon's hand on his swelling dick made him calm down, stilling with a huff. “Stop moving so much or I won't do anything.”

 

“H-hard to do with your crazy teasing, moron.” Gon's tongue probed around Killua's virgin hole and a low, throaty howl rumbled deep in Killua's chest when he jerked in surprise. “ _S-shit._ G-Gon!”

 

The wet, thick limb pushed and prodded, slicking him so he was a shivering mess by the time Gon pressed forward and his tongue invaded that tight space Killua completely forgot could be used as a secondary option to penetrative sex. He'd always been focused on the female aspects of sex; never really thinking too much on the matter of what it was like between two men – not until he met Gon that is. But even still, casting aside his thoughts to think more about just how to even get Gon to _acknowledge_ his undying love; never did he think much about how they'd be coming together as one in such a way.

 

Yeah, sure, Killua had his fair share of dirty thoughts; nasty and X-rated dreams, _hell_ , all the pornographic media he's worked his way into watching, but they were so blurred out from his lack-thereof alcoholic haze that he couldn't seem to bring any of those juicy visuals up.

 

With the way he was feeling now though he was assured he'd be remembering very soon. Very soon, indeed.

 

“A-ahhnn.. Hnn.” Killua gasped, shifted, squirmed, _anything_ to get some friction and movement between him and wherever Gon was. And it worked, because Gon's tongue was dipping in and out and Killua was rocking against the slowly comforting intrusion and the sweet yet soft organ felt delicious between his thighs, better than he ever thought possible. “H-how the _hell_ did you learn t-this, Gon?”

 

“It's a secret.”

 

“F-fuck secrets.” chided Killua, rising up to grip at the locks of black hair he found resting there with Gon lying between his parted legs, pulling and tugging on the unruly, coarse locks for support, “Don't keep s-secrets f- _oh, right there_ -from me anymore. Tell me!”

 

Gon leaned up suddenly and Killua never realized he'd miss the feeling of that delicious tongue stuck in his very own asshole as much as he did now. “Fine. If Killua wants to know so bad, I asked Kurapika and he told me.”

 

“Kurapika?!” Killua gaped openly, gums flapping like a helpless fish, “I mean, I could understand if Leorio the lecher would tell you but Kurapika?? No way!”

 

“Kurapika's gay.” said Gon, simply, before he placed two of his own fingers against his lips, licked once or twice, then popped them into his mouth to suck on. As soon as they were fully coated in a good mixture of saliva, he circled the tip of his forefinger around Killua's entrance and pushed in when it yielded to him. Killua's hiss was drowned out by Gon talking, humming in earnest, “He kind of has a secret crush on another man but he isn't sure how to go about it. He wouldn't tell me who, but I did ask him about gay sex.”

 

Small, incomprehensible noises were Gon's reply, soon adding in a second digit when Killua seemed to start canting his hips along the thrusts of his first finger. As he pressed on, Gon licked his lips and amber eyes stayed focused on watching himself finger-fuck his friend, chuckling. “I wanted to know what and how you do it and Kurapika was hesitant at first to tell me but with the promise I'd always stay safe and use protection he finally conceded.” Once Gon figured Killua was stretched conceivably well; judging by the way his body rattled and his engorged, needy member started leaking pre-cum at the tip, he pulled back and kicked off his own shorts and undergarments. Gon pulled a piece of squarish plastic from his discarded jacket, gazing appreciatively at the sweating, drooling, shaky mess that was Killua Zoldyck; once an assassin and cold blooded killer now a hormonal, desperate and needy guy just begging to be taken.

 

“H-hah.. _hah.._ Gon. _Gon._ ” Killua gulped for air, heart beat pulsing frantically against his chest and hand twisting knots in his own hair the more he pulled on it like it may keep his lust-filled mind under control. As amazing as it felt, as badly as he wanted all this; he couldn't come to the conclusion that this was still _okay_.

 

 _Is this really happening?_ Killua groaned both inwardly and out when Gon slid over him, _into_ him, and filled up all the spaces Killua vaguely remembered had been _empty_ for so long; until Gon was there to take up room and secure him a spot in his life, cover him up where Killua lacked. The cool, slick feel of the condom pulsing around the much hotter organ inside of him felt strange, foreign, and also oddly pleasant. Strong, arms coiled around his waist, pulling him in, shielding him from the world in that iron, reassuring grip and Killua felt _safe_. Safe and secure and still so _alone._

 

_Should we be doing this?_ Gon was moving, then, and it didn't take Killua long to adjust to the larger girth. Years of torture training had him withstood to immense pain and the agony that radiated between his thighs of being stretched abnormally so; was still much more bearable then Killua would have liked. He was moving and Killua fell into the rhythm, pathetic and needy and all sounds included, clutching to Gon like a lifeline he both wanted and was debatable on if he  _needed_ . 

 

_Are we doing the right thing?_ Swallowing down on his own spit, Killua unconsciously dug his nails into Gon's shoulder blades. He scolded himself for enjoying the hiss and groan of the tanner boy on top of him, fucking him into the grassy bed below, skin slapping and thighs smacking, slick with another sweaty skin overlapping their flushed, highly aroused bodies. Killua wouldn't deny it felt amazing, the jab and prod that ripped low, throaty cries unbidden from his throat whenever Gon thrust in a certain angle – had him seeing stars brighter then the ones in the night sky up above. 

 

It felt like magic, like chemistry between them; and so right.

 

Yet, still so  _wrong._

 

As they began to reach their peaks, Killua's body consumed in the tidal wave that was  _Gon_ sweeping him away into the throws of ecstasy; he could only  _think._

 

As their mouths meshed into one, kissing and sucking and biting and battling each other for dominance and Gon was threading their fingers together in a mockery of what  _real love_ should be like, with no confession or promise safely sealed on either boy's lips, tattooed over their hearts – Killua  _wondered_ .

 

“ _K-Killua._ ”

 

_Is this okay_ ?

 

“ _G-Gon!”_

 

As Killua's orgasm crested with a final cry of submission and Gon's hot, pulsing seed breached the part of him he had been saving all along for that special someone; in this instance  _Gon_ , and he was taken over in act to claim its rightful thrown as the ruler to its prized kingdom; Killua repeatedly asked himself the same mantra over and over in his mind.

 

_Is this really okay?_

 

Only, the same two answers came back again and Killua still knew he was torn in two and still not entirely whole, not entirely full as much as he was still empty. Not yet.

 

** Yes, this is okay. **

 

When Gon pulled Killua into another kiss and their bodies picked up with renewed vigor; Killua knew they'd definitely wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight, at least. Regardless of the consequences.

 

_ No, it's not. _


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killua knows in life that whenever things seem to get better there is always a way to make it worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things start escalating after the next few chapters since the chorus is coming up. So it's gonna be a bit short, slow, and sweet, and then I'm just gonna drop a bomb. Oops. Spoiling myself. Thanks.~ 
> 
> Enjoy.

“ **He gave up eating.”**

 

With the new addition of Pro Hunter Biscuit Krueger on their team and as their new mentor; Gon and Killua were both on their way to becoming quite the well-versed _Nen_ users. It was by chance they met her through their trek past a mountain gorge filled with monsters (the weaker ones at least gave them something substantial to earn cash from); and she saved their skins when faced with an indomitable threat – _Scissor man_ as Gon called him (Killua laughed and called him a Barber with the promise to recommend him to Leorio for a close shave). A classic name for a guy who used just used _Nen_ -enhanced scissors to fight.

 

Killua could still feel the remnants of a few scarred cuts he received when training with this dastardly foe, although near the end he lost his 'dastardliness' and became much less volatile and more like a tired jack rabbit out of juice and ready for the picket. It didn't help Gon was so bashful and thankful to the man for letting them fight him for a week. Sure, Killua was impressed by the improvement they made facing this stranger; but he wasn't remotely prepared to be lavishly thanking him for his time. Not like Gon, anyway.

 

After all, it was _Scissor man_ who attacked them first; lacerating a good-sized cut clean through Gon's calf muscle in a surprise ambush attack. He was lucky to even come out with that type of wound and Killua dreaded his own weakness being Gon's downfall. Albeit now he walked with a slight limp, Gon shrugged it off like he normally did. Hell, he even laughed and said he wouldn't mind getting cut up _more,_ like some cruel, sick joke. Killua felt no remorse for what the guy got, even if he helped them better their skills in the meantime. He wouldn't have hesitated the cut the man down when they had him cornered. But Gon was all smiles and giggles, gifting the once-mass murderer with excessive praise and Killua felt nauseous just watching him.

 

It wasn't funny.

 

Something was certainly wrong with the boy, Killua told himself with a gulp.

 

At least Biscuit had the decency to guide them and not just toss them aside like trash to be slaughtered, doomed to watch the flash of the _Game Over_ title for the rest of their dead, wasted lives – because she saw something in the two of them that Killua was blind to see. He could understand Gon maybe; Gon was the pinnacle of stars, destined for greatness if given the chance and direction needed to excel. Killua wrote himself off as a lost cause for a life of trekking in the underground dealership did that to a boy too young to experience the horrors of the darkness beneath the bustling streets of normal everyday life. Even if he carried no hope for himself at a bright future he still wanted to secure Gon one.

 

Even better was the fact Biscuit happened to be Wing-san's own mentor which made her the mentor to their mentor and so fourth. It was her perfect _excuse_ to train them. But the fact they shared a history and were being mentored by their previous mentor's mentor was a tongue twister that frazzled even Killua's logic-filled brain and Gon smoking sausages from the steam out his ears.

 

After finally being guided to Masadora and passing 'Phase One' of Biscuit's training regime, Gon and Killua were quick to sell away all the cards they collected prior to meeting her and cash in for some much needed Greed Island game currency.

 

Killua shamefully held back in secrecy that he was fast to divulge and spend more then 75% of his portion in the alcoholic beverages now filling up half of his free spaces – promising to himself he'd slow his bad habit gradually down to nothing. One sip at a time. He didn't know what Gon did with his share.

 

The newly assembled group of three turned around; much to everyone _but_ Biscuit's complaint and bemoaning, and returned back to the rocky cliff area they had fought _Scissor man_ in. When the cards she held up exploded in a cloud of white and down clattered the wheel barrow and digging tools; Killua felt his cerulean eyes go blood shot with regret and the hinges on his jaw go tense, knowing now that this may have been one big mistake.

 

_This was so a bad idea._

 

“Now, we return to Masadora.” Biscuit piped up and Gon all about wailed out his frustration in silence as Killua was gaping holes through that blonde haired woman's skull, “But, this time, we'll be going in a straight line!”

 

“Eh? A straight line? You can't possibly mean..” Sweat dropping, Killua felt his pupils shrink in realization and Biscuit pointed directly at the mass of rock right behind her, grin in place.

 

“Yep. It's time to dig!”

 

Much to both young boys' surprise, they fell into the new routine fairly easily even if their progress had left little to speak for. The rock was softer than they thought but as they spent two days battling the hard surfaces with cheap, lousy shovels and a poorly equipped wheelbarrow that was barely fit to carry the weight or size of two Gon's; made the process of returning to Masadora an even bigger pain in the ass and much more time-consuming than warranted.

 

It didn't help that Biscuit insisted when they rested they remain sitting upright, clutching onto a rope that lead to a steadily-increasing sized boulder above their heads. If they didn't keep a portion of their brain alert then they would release the rope and the boulder would surely come crashing down. Killua had expertise in this field since his parents subjected him to many similar exercises when sleeping throughout his childhood. It was a cinch for him and he got all the rest he could ask for the past few grueling days.

 

Gon, not so much.

 

Killua counted seven large lumps on Gon's head, now, as he was quietly taking his turn for a break, shoveling bite after bite of some sort of meaty soup into his mouth. His blue eyes darted back and forth between watching Gon slowly unload huge loads from the wheel barrow and making sure the food he was eating made it into his mouth and not spilled haphazardly on the ground. Food in-game would surely not be wasted. His stomach rumbled somewhat midst his third helping and he held up his bowl towards Biscuit with a sideways pout/glance/something probably embarrassing even though he loathed to admit to it. Because every time he asked of Biscuit for something she'd answer with that smug know-it-all grin and Killua hated this part of their training most of all.

 

Being forced to rely on another person for sustenance when your training made you too exhausted to even cook yourself a proper meal.

 

“Uh, more.” Killua chewed on his bottom lip, feeling the blonde hunter's smile on him, “..Please.”

 

“You sure eat a lot for a growing teenager, Killua.” Biscuit laughed, picking up the ladle in the stew pot and gathering another big helping to slide into Killua's awaiting bowl. He scoffed and said nothing, keeping his eyes darted away and started back up on his next dish with haste that even his spoon couldn't keep up with the speed he was eating. “It's _so_ endearing.”

 

Coughing out the spoon he was choking on, Killua wrenched his glare her way and Biscuit chuckled even harder for it. “It's not e-endearing! Geez, what's your problem? I eat a lot, so what? Don't hassle me for it when you're the one breaking our backs on this stupid training exercise!”

 

Biscuit's brow rose but she pursed her lips thoughtfully and sipped from her glass of water a second before replying, “I guess you have a point. But I did warn you beforehand when you two accepted me as your mentor that I wouldn't go easy on you. So don't complain that much when you both willingly stepped into this situation on your own.”

 

Huffing, because she was right, Killua shook his head and returned to slurping his food down noisily and as rudely as possible; just to maybe piss her off for fun, when Biscuit's loud, clearing cough made him flinch and her next words made that flinch turn into a wince.

 

“Gon's not eating.”

 

Carefully, Killua set down his bowl and spoon and twisted slightly in his seat just to glance at her, unblinking. Had he heard her right? Gon not eating? That's impossible. He had to confirm it, because even Killua was having a hard time remembering if he had ever seen Gon eat. He had been so focused on digging through those rock structures, hating Biscuit for the crazy idea to dig straight through to Masadora in general, and keep his budding alcohol binges on the down low – that he forgot to pay attention to Gon's health and status instead of his own. _Some friend I am._ “What did you say?”

 

“He hasn't eaten since we first started for Masadora.” said Biscuit, tone neutral but the underlying worry was evident, “That's four days now he hasn't had a bite to eat. I've been watching you two very closely and I know he hasn't eaten one thing, not even when he's sneaked away to do his other business.”

 

“Seriously?” Killua swallowed the nervous lump he had been chewing on in the back of his throat. Turning, he watched Gon tilt and shove the sixth (or was it eighth?) load of rubble and dirt from the wheelbarrow and the grunting he made was easily heard from the safe distance they sat away from. “You're lying. Gon wouldn't _not_ eat. His appetite is as big as mine, _hell_ , our food bill was _double_ what it normally was when Gon ate. There's just no way.”

 

“I'm not lying, Killua.”

 

“Damnit-” The ex-assassin cursed but Biscuit's reprimanding glare made him cringe, sigh, and call out to flag Gon down for attention. “Oi, Gon! C'mere a sec.”

 

“Hai!” Gon answered, cheery like always, and he jogged over to the two of them before pausing a foot away beside Killua wearing that big stupid grin on his face he always had when greeting someone. “What's up?”

 

Killua thrust his bowl of soup right toward Gon and visibly the tan-skinned teen balked and took a step back much to Killua's own surprise. “Eat this.” He did his best to command, sound authoritarian, but Gon shook his head and a bead of nervous sweat sliding down his cheek didn't go unnoticed. “Seriously, Gon. I want you to eat it.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Just eat it.”

 

“I'm not hungry right now. I'll eat later, Killua.”

 

“Bullshit.” Gon's chuckle sounded hollow and edgy. Killua gnashed his teeth together in a warning growl even if Gon didn't seem to mind. “Gon. Eat it. Or so help me I will shove you down and forcefully feed you myself.”

 

“That sounds kind of hot; being pinned down by Killua and forcefully made to do something.” The purr of satisfaction colored Killua's cheeks faster than he wanted; remnants of earlier when Killua had sneaked too many sips of whiskey during his bathroom break coupled with his raging teenage hormones resulting in a very wired-up young Zoldyck riding atop Gon against a wall in the furthest reaches of their latest digging assignment. He had even made an effort to keep their obscene noises to a bare minimum – when you're in something close to a cave, _everything_ echoes. If Biscuit knew they were having sex; she'd explode.

 

And because Gon didn't say _no_ per-say, there really wasn't anything wrong with it, right? Killua had demanded in a partly drunken fit and the sun-kissed boy obliged, snarly comments and all.

 

So, in the end, _yes_ , Killua had _sorta_ pinned Gon down and _forced_ him to do something (In this case, _thrust those hips faster, change the angle, grind harder,_ _ **fuck me like you mean it you dirty bastard**_ _,_ etc) against their better judgment.

 

Killua with an alcohol-level to top the worst of those record-breaking charts had one foul mouth, indeed.

 

“...shit.” slipped Killua's tongue and a heavy metal ladle flew his way, smacking him clean across the forehead and sending him falling to the side in a hilarious heap on his ass. The bowl of soup he was holding tipped, flew into the air, and splashed all over the front of his shorts leaving a nice wet stain straight across the crotch-region. Gon squealed out a chuckle and Killua bolted up, swinging his fist at Gon but missing in the dodge. “I-idiot! Stop laughing! That wasn't funny!” His entire face exploded in scarlet red and he flailed his hands in front of his shorts, embarrassment ready to be his end, when he heard a girl's voice enter the mixture of Gon's laughter.

 

Biscuit was maniacally giggling off to the side and Killua rounded over to her with a glare to kill, “DON'T LAUGH! THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT.”

 

“Haha. You're easy to pick on, Killua.”

 

“Yeah, you are pretty easy to make fun of sometimes, Killua. It's _en-dear-ing_.”

 

“ _GEEZ, ALL OF YOU JUST SHUT UP._ ”

 

“Well, back to work! _Ja, ne!_ ” Gon waved himself out to the shrieking, flustered mess that was Killua and it was the silver-haired teens turn to throw the ladle at Gon's retreating form and still miss.

 

“Stupid Gon.” hissed Killua, pouting as he crossed his arms and glared at the ground a moment, until the spilled bowl and its contents caught the corner of his vision and he paused.

 

All that food he had piled in there; he could clearly see now when before it was just a murky batch of liquid with indistinguishable pieces floating in it. Chunks of steak and beef mixed with stray, scrawny rice noodles. Some vegetables like peas and carrots and stringy green beans. Noticeable pieces of seasoning; maybe things like basil or rosemary plants and garlic. All of that was now splashed along the dirty, rock-infested ground floor.

 

Wasted and left uneaten.

 

Killua cast one last look at Gon's gaunt form busying himself with shoveling another pile into the wheelbarrow; those tight-knit clothes plastered to his thin body in a layer of sweat. His ribs were showing through the see-through white material, the outlines of his hips and waist highlighted through his bulky, hanging shorts. His muscles were there, evident, but the much-needed fat was not.

 

Probable starting signs of slow food-deprived starvation and malnutrition no less.

 

Sighing to himself, Killua turned and glared forlornly at the bowl again in hopes all his anger and frustration would be transferred into the inanimate object – and soon forgotten.

 

_Baka._


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killua becomes locked in a game he's not sure he can win, let alone come out unscathed this time.
> 
> [Mentions of sexual content]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two part thing, so this gets continued into the next chapter. Not happy with how it turned out but I think I sorta got an idea. Eh. RINGS ARE SHINY.
> 
> It's kinda out of focus but I hope the next one clarifies. Yeh.
> 
> Enjoy

“ **He sold his mother's rings; she said nothing.”**

 

“Hey, Killua? Where did Gon get a bunch of women's rings from?” Biscuit had approached Killua one early morning while Gon was busying himself using the restroom in the nearby venue when she asked that strange question.

 

But Killua wasn't honestly paying attention to a word she said.

 

Electric blue eyes blinked, unfocused at staring at the sights of Masadora's bustling, bright buildings, colorful signs, and stores to not notice her form coming closer towards him; that is, until she actually pinched his cheeks to give him a wake up call.

 

“W-what?!” He yelped, pulling away from her tweezer fingers to glare forlornly in her direction, “Oi, what the hell was that for?”

 

“You were spacing out and I had to get your attention.” she said simply, raising an eyebrow.

 

Sighing into his regular composure, Killua straightened, hands in his short pockets as usual. “Well you have it now, so what is it?”

 

“How did you Gon get a hold of a bunch of women's rings?”

 

“What the-? What are you talking about?” His eyes narrowed suspiciously, sparing a glance over of Biscuit's small, lean little form in a huge dress, and grumbled because none of that made no sense. His head was still slightly spacey from earlier which didn't help. Since when did a girl's rings come into their conversation?

 

“Gon had a huge handful of rings earlier and was pawning them off at the shop.” Biscuit pointed out, gesturing at the nearby building that clearly said **Pawn** and **Shop** in big bold letters separated by a giant picture depiction of a ring in the center. “They weren't game cards obviously because I overheard the shop keeper saying they weren't items or valid in Greed Island. But then I heard someone else in the store actually buy them off of him using the standard game currency and Gon accepted the trade. When did he get a hold of those rings?”

 

“I don't know.” answered Killua automatically and he gazed at the mini mart that Gon had ventured into for bathroom usage. _Where did he get rings from? And why would he want to sell them here?_

 

“So you don't know anything about them?”

 

“Of course I don't.”

 

“But you're his best friend.”

 

“So?” Killua huffed and folded his arms like a little kid and Biscuit rolled her eyes at his childish behavior, “How does me being his best friend mean anything?”

 

“Well, you should know more about him then anything. I mean, you are having _sex_ with him after all..”

 

“Just because I'm his best friend, doesn't imply-” He stopped the second she mentioned _sex_ and his jaw dropped to the ground, speechless, “What the hell are you talking about?? We aren't having sex!” He knew the easily distinguished flush blooming across his face would betray him, but there was just no way Biscuit found out _this_ quickly! He had been real careful too, always planning out their little romps in utmost secrecy and even imposing _Zetsu_ if necessary when they were too far away. All his excuses were believable and he even had a time restraint with each passing they made, just so it wouldn't arouse suspicion.

 

There was just no way in _hell_ she found out.

 

“You're lying.” Killua said instantly and Biscuit wove a sly smile onto her lips.

 

“Says the one who was taking it up against a tree last night when you were clearly asleep a few minutes earlier after I left you.” She said bluntly, the twitch of her eye making Killua coughed and he choked down his own spit. “And was on his knees with his head bobbing between Gon's legs this morning before we left, over by the river when you two were _supposed_ to be just getting a drink. I don't remember letting you off on break to get a drink _and_ give head, Killua.”

 

_Shit, shitting fuckety, fuck._

 

“Or, do I need remind you that one time I found you with Gon going at it in a bathroom stall? You don't want to know how I found out about that incident. This includes the time apparently you two were making out and giving each other hand-jobs in an alleyway between two buildings and several by-passers saw and would _not_ stop talking about it, either. Oh, how embarrassedwas for having my students caught like that when they didn't even know the relationship we three share!”

 

“Uh-”

 

“OR that one time where Gon was on top of you straddling you in-”

 

“ _HOLY SHIT,_ OKAY _._ I get it! I GET IT! STOP.”

 

Biscuit giggled.

 

“Crap.” Killua bit at his tongue and a smirk wormed its way onto the blonde woman's face, all-knowing and deceitfully wrong. “So much _crap_. _Damnit._ How, just- how did you find out?”

 

“You think it was a big giant secret?” Her laugh made Killua cringe and step back a pace, fearing the worst from their mentor with such a sadistic ringing quality to her voice. “It hasn't been one since the first time I saw Gon and you having sex on the forest floor three days in when we started Greed Island. I was tracking you right after you left Antokiba; city of prizes. I saw when you rejected the player's alliance offer to join, remember? I was there.”

 

“Oh.” Killua did remember, the image of Biscuit's face flashing across his memory, sitting highest on the steps where they had met Genthru and his other allies; wanting to team up to clear the game via use of monopolizing spell cards to gain other people's cards. Gon was the one who wanted to play the game as it should and Killua eagerly followed him – and that is what led the two falling into the victimizing hands of other more skilled players knowing how to manipulate the game and land their sorry asses bummed out in the woods.

 

And then, thereafter, they did indeed have sex.

 

“ _Oh_.” Killua definitely remembers alright. Clearing his throat, he sighs and hangs his head low, a little. “Yeah, yeah. Okay, fine. You caught us. But what does us having sex have to do with any of this?”

 

“Well, aren't you two close?”

 

“Yeah? I think.”

 

“You 'think'? You don't sound too certain about it to be giving me that pitiful thing for an answer.”

 

“It's just,” Killua said, licking at his chapped lips and locked in his own indecision, “It's been really rocky lately. Our relationship. It's been rocky for a long ass time and I'm not sure when it's going to get better.”

 

“You two aren't dating?”

 

“No.” Killua hated himself for denying it even if the better half of him still _wanted_ that to be true. It wasn't. His feelings reprimanded him in the furthest hindquarters of his mind, heart hurting with the grief. Killua dropped a sad frown to his face and let the regret fall to the depths of his stomach in a sick and twisted up lump of what _wasn't_ real and what was, just a fantasy. It sucked. _This sucks._ “No, we aren't dating.”

 

“Then why are you two having sex?”

 

“I don't know.”

 

“You have to know, Killua. You can't just _not_ know when you're having sex! You both are too young to be engaging in such risky business and you know it! You're just barely teenagers for pity's sake! Has nobody ever taught you about the dangers of doing things like this? I mean, come on, Killua, use your head!”

 

“What are you, _my mom_?” Killua bit back and immediately regretted it when Biscuit glared more menacing then he anticipated. He recoiled at the look with a gulp. “U-uh, wait, I didn't mean-”

 

_SMACK._

 

Her white gloved hand left a nice lasting reddish mark clean across his cheek and the echo of its noise filtered out across the boulevard of Masadora's street. Many people stared, swallowed, and quickly averted their gaze away and started walking for fear or getting caught in the middle of something. Killua's head did not move from where it turned in the slap and he stared, wide-eyed, at the nearest light pole for the longest time as he listened to Biscuit's ragged, stuttered breathing. He knew she was mad and he rightfully deserved that, probably, but there were some things even Killua couldn't control.

 

His mouth in the face of older ladies was one of them.

 

“You're right.” Her voice came out more controlled then it should be for sounding so wired-up seconds ago, “I'm not your mother, Killua. But I _am_ your mentor and _Nen_ -teacher which gives me every right to be concerned for my students well-being and health. I'm not stupid and I know exactly what sex is and what it can do to a person, including all the problems and issues it can bring up in people's relationships. I'd like for it to stay out of both of my student's lives, if possible, until they are more mature to be dealing with this kind of behavior.”

 

“But we're using protection! And it's not like we can get pregnant or something. I'm definitely _not_ a girl!” Killua defended, the first thing coming off his mind when it came to protecting the only _thing_ him and Gon really had left between them since the drug incident. Yeah, they had at least always used protection (mostly when they remembered, that is) and were always very careful to stay clean before and afterwards. As much as he hated being found out about the dirty acts they had been carrying out together; to have it ripped and torn away from him so soon was something he hated even more. “What more do you want from me!?”

 

“Protection isn't the thing I'm worried about and it wouldn't matter if you were a girl or not.” hissed Biscuit and Killua challenged her with his eyes, even if she was now towering over him with fists on her hips and making a face that spoke _danger, back off._ “I'm worried about the two of you and your health. Physically _and_ mentally!”

 

“Sex isn't going to mess us up physically or mentally!”

 

“It _can_.” she pushed and stepped forward. Killua was helpless and had to step back, in order to dodge any hits she might swing his way at any moment. “And it _will_ if you keep doing stupid things like this so you need to stop while you're ahead. You're going to wreck your life if you keep doing it and once you do, there's no going back. Be smart, Killua, I know you're better than this.”

 

“' _Better than this_?' What the hell? What is that supposed to mean?”

 

Growling defensively, Killua bared his fangs in a movement that he might have just bit at her for the hell of it, and Biscuit's fist flew straight towards his nose and paused just an inch away when Killua's eyes flew wide open, bigger than saucers. “Don't.” She said, once, and Killua felt the wind knocked from his lungs in the same way the wind from such a fast strike billowing across his face when she swung, and was nice enough  _not_ to punch his lights out. He couldn't even see her fist coming at him; the movement too blindingly fast for his well-trained eye to catch. He was clearly outmatched. “Killua, just please,  _please_ think rationally about what I'm saying and at least consider it. Sex isn't a game and I don't want to see either of you boys hurt. Please.”

 

There was a touch of hurt in her voice and that was possibly the only thing that kept Killua's dissuading and volatile feelings from lashing out and doing harm. So, he dropped his hands and placed them back into his pockets, head bowed in acknowledgment as he sighed, nodding a little.

 

“Fine. I'll think about it.”

 

“Thank you.” Biscuit murmured, expression softening, just as Gon came trotting back over to them waving frantically in the air. Killua looked up, feeling his heart do flips at the sight of Gon returning to them and after all that talk had him riled-up and tense; it all just melted away in that instant he came back.

 

Gon was as exuberant as ever, light and feathery and cheerful and..

 

Everything Killua was not.

 

And he knew it wasn't going to be as easy as anybody hoped it'd be.

 

It was only going to be harder. _Much_ _harder._


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killua's worst fears aren't just his family anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got motivated. This popped out. Here yah go lol.
> 
> Thanks again for all the feedback! /squee - Makes me super happy.
> 
> Enjoy!

“ **And pretended not to know.”**

 

_Ring, ring!_

 

Leorio flipped over on the too-small mattress on the floor just in time to slap the phone from the kickstand and straight to the cool wood below. His scruffy face moaned into his pillow, a line of drool on his cheek, and he didn't bother opening his eyes as he fumbled around in the direction where the phone ought to have fell.

 

_Ring, ring!_

 

“Yeah, yeah. I get it.. I'm answering..” he mumbled tiredly to nothing in particular, reaching up to rub a bit of dust and grime from his eyes, before he peeked one open and fingered on the beetle phone vibrating insistently on the creaky old floorboards of his studio apartment. But he didn't quite make a move to grab it just yet. His eye soon fell shut right after.

 

_Ring, ring!_

 

“...”

 

_Ring, ring!_

 

“....”

 

_Ring, ring-_

 

“I'M AWAKE.” Leorio suddenly shot up, eyes alarmed and big as he frantically looked left and right. He stilled the instant he remembered he must had dozed off a moment, then grabbed at the phone in rough, uncoordinated movements with the poor device bouncing back and forth between each palm, before he finally pressed the button to answer the call.

 

“Hello, this is-”

 

“ _HELLO?_ ” screamed a louder than necessary male voice and Leorio practically fell over from the volume's force, “Excuse me, but is this Leorio Paladiknight? I have been calling and texting him for hours and he isn't answering anything and I'm-”

 

“THIS IS LEORIO.” he answered in a voice even higher pitched than the other guys'. Numbly, as he was lowering the speaker part back to his ear instead of held against the nearby wall, Leorio slunk back under the covers and shut his eyes again. “Who the hell are you to be calling me this damned early in the morning, man? It's-” He spared a quick glance at the florescent clock next to him, “-It's 3 in the morning, ass hole, so this better be good or else.”

 

“You do know that this is Zepile, Leorio, right?”

 

“Zepile?!” Leorio instantly beamed and grasped the phone in both hands, rolling onto his side to keep it still, “Man, it's been awhile! How have you been?”

 

“Good, good. I think.” Zepile sounded a little off but Leorio wasn't sure if it was the lack of sleep kicking in or his own natural instinct buzzing the alarm bells in his head. “Look, I need to talk to you about something.”

 

“At 3 in the morning on a weekday?” He rose a brow at the stack of paperwork and books piled haphazardly across the nearby corner. Leorio made a mental note to tidy it up a little bit in the morning, maybe. “Is it that serious?”

 

“Yeah. I mean, I suppose it is. I'm just so sorry it took me this long to finally get a hold of you.”

 

“No, no, it's fine, I guess.” Leorio grumbled but he was doing his best not to get his pissy emotions have the better of him. He and Zepile had hit it off quite well back in Yorknew and he didn't really want to push a rift between one of the only other his-age _male_ friends he had left, especially living in a life segregated at college and in his studies. And with Gon and Killua off to play Greed Island and Kurapika busying himself with the Nostrade family and those Kurta eyes (and being an insensitive _jerk_ and not answering his damn messages); Leorio was practically alone in this.

 

If it meant losing a bit of sleep to accommodate a friend, so be it.

 

“What's up?”

 

Zepile cleared his throat on the other end and Leorio felt himself draw in a breath and hold it - The reason he was not so sure of. But for whatever reason it was, he did it, as he heard the sour note in Zepile's voice come next and all those fears he'd finally finished burying were resurfacing and coming back to haunt him like his worst nightmares.

 

“It's about Gon and Killua.”

 

* * *

 

 

Later on that evening as Killua crawled into the space that was where they slept, he stared at the back of Gon's spiky head of hair where he lay and hummed. He could see the steady rise and fall of his chest, his back moving in sync with each breath, and Killua felt mesmerized in the motion that was utmost _peacefulness_. Gon looked so at peace with himself, sleeping like a normal human being would, and enjoying the respite it gave.

 

It wasn't so much the same as it was with Killua unfortunately.

 

Slinking sideways on quiet tiptoes, he sat up against the stony wall and pulled his legs to his chest. Killua stared at the space between his knees, brow furrowed in a hard line that felt like an ache in his skull. As the icy air from his mouth blew on his kneecaps, he tasted the foul, criminal odor of whiskey on his tongue and cringed. He'd just spent the last hour sneaking away to indulge in his booze-addiction and was downing so many bottles of whiskey that he lost count at about the seventh round.

 

What Biscuit had said, had warned him over, and chastised him for – It was setting him on a cliff's edge, ready to fall if he even dared move. Forward _and_ back movements counted to his demise.

 

There was just no way he could come out of this in a win-win compromise. Biscuit knew they were having sex. Gon constantly _insisted_ they have sex. Killua still kept giving _in_ to everybody else and their whims. He wasn't sure what he wanted in this aspect anymore, to be honest.

 

“ _Ne, Killua. Do you wanna..?”_ _Gon said, the second time they'd found themselves emotional, depressed, and strangely aroused by these angst feelings and ache in their hearts. Gon was licking the shell of Killua's ear that time, the two of them huddled in a tree from shelter against the harsh wind and rainstorm that was traveling across the plain._

 

_Lightning streaked across the sky and it was Gon this time who was illuminated brighter than a star in the night._

 

“ _Tell me you wanna, Killua..?”_

 

_And Killua wanted it, then. His answer came obvious and quicker then he expected, but thoughtless all the same when he turned and his mouth claimed Gon's in a kiss. “Yes.”_

 

“ _I wanna do it. Killua.” Those words came the third time and it was too late for Killua's body to fight the natural and automatic response it received when burning with testosterone and hormones. Gon was rutting against him, bare and naked and Killua was completely exposed then, open to the world and open to Gon's advances, thighs spread and inviting and he wasn't sure then if he resented his motions or loved it. And he was letting him; but **why**? “I wanna put it in. Ne, Ne.. Can I? Can I put it in Killua?”_

 

 _Killua thought it'd be better of himself to hesitate, to contemplate on their decision, laying naked in a bush just outside of another small town. There were people not far from them and their chatter was audible enough to decipher their very own conversations and if they spoke even a tad bit louder they'd be obvious as the blue sky on a sunny day. They'd be discovered. But Gon kept pushing, nudging, and prodding at Killua with his body, his erection, his **words**_ _and Killua found it hard to resist him._

 

_This was **Gon**. And Killua still couldn't deny him, after all this time._

 

“ _Yes.”_

 

Killua shivered with his arms wrapped firmly around his calves as a chilly breeze rolled into their small, pathetic sleeping cave, and the icy thoughts that accompanied it. After the third time he found himself submitting to Gon's advances, it had all gone down-hill from there. Not only did he never once deny Gon his satisfaction or plea, but he started initiating some of those advances _himself_. There were times it was Killua who became demanding, forceful, needy and all the _want_ included and Gon never once rejected him; embracing him with open arms and a sickening smile that seemed like he _knew_ everything that Killua felt behind those words and those fleeting touches. And he was rubbing it in his face, every single time.

 

Did Gon know Killua once; and even maybe still _now_ , wanted Gon in that way?

 

He distantly remembered their first kiss - The sloppy way their mouths had met and the messy wetness of their saliva mixing together, their tongues coiling like a pair of dueling snakes and squeezing and how his chest constricted, his throat tightened, and all he was left with was Gon's flavor; _his_ aftertaste, and this unquenchable thirst for more.

 

Killua loved Gon, then. And Gon had mentioned after their kiss about _knowing_ something. Could he had possibly figured it out? Perhaps that would explain why Gon, now; aside his troubling emotions from withdrawal, was drawn to him.

 

Was it possible Gon wanted him back then?

 

_No._

 

Killua bit his lip hard enough to draw blood and the faint metallic tang only made the gross liquor taste in his mouth worsen. There was no way Gon cared for Killua like that. It was strictly a way to cope with his lack of drugs; that was all there was to it. And for awhile he was in the same boat, this knowing truth applied to Killua in his need to deal without his alcohol to keep him company.

 

They were simply two lonely friends seeking comfort and finding that temporary safe haven in the other boy's arms, seeking rehab in the form of mindless; raw and dispassionate sex.

 

Never once had either boy confessed their feelings, their love; shed tears or openly cried, let alone hugged or embraced with an ounce of emotion within it.

 

It was lust, not love in their case.

 

Alcohol just made it worse. Killua fell back into his bad habits when he discovered how easy and how _cheap_ booze came in Greed Island and it was pathetically simple to obtain, even in the hands of a minor inside a virtual reality such as this. He thought Hunters might have been more strict on things like that but apparently their hard-core drinks weren't one of them.

 

And a drunk Killua meant an incredibly hormonal-frustrated Killua.

 

Gon just happened to be the only vent he had left here he could trust to expose and give his body over to, without any consequences. At least, not any consequences thus _far_.

 

Biscuit's words were haunting him and he damned as hell wasn't sure exactly _why_ yet. Was it from the way Illumi and his family had instilled fear into him, trained him to always take life cautious and careful with every step you took? Sex was just one thing of many that you had to tread over, glass under your feet threatening to break, and Killua always sought to have his steps resemble as close to _silence_ as plausible, feathery like air. Even now, could he keep going on this thin wire thinking that this silly game would stick his feet in place and allow him to continue onward, safe and free from the burden of the price he's paid.

 

And still owing for, too.

 

Killua wouldn't pay back his debt even past death.

 

_Stop thinking about this shit. Change the subject, Killua. Think of something else!_

 

“….”

 

“ **Where did Gon get a bunch of women's rings from?”**

 

 _Rings!_ Killua snapped his fingers, visibly glowing at the returning subject. He had totally forgotten about those rings Biscuit mentioned before the topic of sex had driven him off course and that was the entire starting point of their unfortunate conversation. Gon had gotten a hold of a bunch of girly rings and pawned them off for Greed Island currency at the shop. For what reason, he did not know, but he did want to figure out _where_ and _how_ Gon got a hold of rings that weren't even a part of the in-game design. So far, they had yet to find a way out of the game, so that ruled out that possibility.

 

Just when did these rings come into play then?

 

Stealthy utilizing all his skills of remaining _absolutely-silent_ , Killua scooted forward and picked up Gon's backpack from their nearby pile of stuff. He was careful not to let his own belongings fall and cause any alerting sounds to the overly-sensitive ears of the sleeping Gon Freecs, and set the partly stuffed bag into his lap before he started rummaging through.

 

_Water bottles._

 

_Clothes. Bright green underwear with little fishies on them. Seriously._

 

_Tackles and bait for his weird fishing pole._

 

_Dried sardines. Barf._

 

_More miscellaneous fish stuff. How much stuff of his pertained to fish?!_

 

_Snacks – MY CHCOLATE BALLS?? –_

 

_-More clothes._

 

_Hunter license._

 

_Some old pictures and papers with random unimportant crap written on them._

 

_Empty food wrappers._

 

_Lots of socks._

 

_A letter from Mito-_

 

“A letter from Mito?” Killua mouthed, wordlessly, and pulled out the small envelope slip with ' **From Mito** ' clearly written across it and held it up for closer inspection. The little bit of light filtering in from the moonlight outside their cave was sparse but luckily he had been trained with a gift for night vision, so Killua had it covered enough to read the sloppy hand-writing of Gon even in the dark.

 

It was already open and the creasing in the paper was evident, mainly along the bottom of the envelope, and Killua felt around the wrinkles there that they were pretty recently pushed back down from whatever way they were pressed out prior. It was hastily ripped open at the top and part of the note inside had been torn on the corner where Gon opened it at. _Figures._ Gon and his impatience.

 

As inconspicuously as he could, Killua slipped out the paper and unfolded it from its carelessly crumpled up version Gon must have spent trying to place it back into its rightful place. Killua noticed the note was actually torn in half so only part of what was written showed, so he was unfortunately made to read the only amount of words that were plainly viable with a disappointed sigh. He turned, placing his back on his sleeping friend in case he happened to wake, give him a few extra seconds to cover for himself and arouse the least amount of suspicion, and smoothed out the half-note until it was open enough to begin reading from.

 

“ _Dear Gon.”_ Killua licked some moisture back into his lips as he read to himself, _“I'm glad you finally answered my last letter. I was beginning to worry about how you've been doing lately with becoming a new Hunter and all. Likewise, I'm so proud of you Gon for doing what you feel is right. I still worry about you and I hope you'll come visit me soon, because your grandmother and I sure do miss you a lot. Make sure to bring your friend Killua along again, sometime. I'd love to have him over, he was such a joy to have here with us. Please make sure to give him our regards.” - Killua flushed all the way to the tips of his ears at that - “Anyway, here are the rings you asked of me. I'm not sure why you wanted them, I mean, is there any particular reason you'd want that old collection of rings I've been keeping as your future saving bond? I did tell you before that I put those away for you to use when you were older and wanted to attend school or something else, since they are all very old rings passed down back through our families generation and worth a pretty penny. Please, if you can let me know why you wanted the rings, I'd really appreciate it-”_

 

The note was cut off where it was torn and Killua blinked slowly, the dawning of his earlier dread coming back to him, choking him on the shuddering thoughts worming their way into his fore-consciousness. Terror was like a virus and there was no antidote or antitoxin that could cure it and Killua dropped the letter in loo of clutching at his frantically pounding chest, twisting his hand up in the fabric of his shirt with an inaudible gasp.

 

“ **Gon had a huge handful of rings earlier and was pawning them off at the shop.”**

 

Killua fought to breathe, finding it difficult to catch his breath. His heart was beating a hundred miles a minute, sweat lacing his brow and the rush of his adrenaline thick in his blood and making his veins and arteries feel like they would burst at any moment. His rib cage and chest felt bruised, painful, and tender to the touch and he was unable to grasp too long or face the lance of agony dripping into his system every second. He could only guess his blue eyes were dilated, pupils blown far out of proportion, and every hair on his body was standing on end like all the times he'd been consumed in a whirlwind of powerful electrical currents.

 

His heart skipped a beat.

 

**Those rings weren't part of the Greed Island's game system. Those were real life rings.**

 

In his mad dash to start digging through Gon's backpack, he knocked over the sack in the process and spilled all of its contents out in a loud clamber in front of him. Clothes and junk and papers, food and more all fell to the floor and wound up everywhere. But Killua's vision was too glazed over, too hazy to comprehend what was what as he started grabbing at anything just to touch it, squeeze it in his hands, and figure out what exactly he held in each one.

 

Gon had yet to be roused in his panic.

 

**He sold off Mito's rings for Greed Island currency. He didn't even tell her why.**

 

**He didn't tell _them_ why.**

 

Blindly, Killua picked up possession after possession of Gon's, fumbling through the array of items discarded and strung haphazard around his feet. He was now on his knees as he bent over to pull each one to his face and examine it in the pitch black, sapphire eyes narrowed and night vision struggling to decipher whatever it is he was holding in a death grip because he realized he couldn't control the shaking in his hands for all the training in the world.

 

 _Water bottles_. He threw the empty and half-empty containers far out and they hit the wall, clattering.

 

 _Clothes._ They all ended up scattered and disorganized now, wrinkled and dirty.

 

 _Tackles and bait._ The low clicking and metal tinkling made Gon's ear twitch but nothing more.

 

 _Snacks._ Killua felt bile in his throat and gagged, covering his mouth with one hand to stifle a dry heave.

 

 _Hunter license._ He barely managed to throw that important trinket nearby Gon for the time being.

 

 _Papers and pictures and empty wrappers._ They were everywhere, dots on his vision, stabs in his heart.

 

 _Socks._ Those were long gone and chucked far out the opening of their little cave already.

 

 _Mito's letter._ It was torn further and even tape could put it back together and make it readable again.

 

He shuffled a few minutes before through everything before he paused on something in particular. But it was nothing that he was expecting it to be.

 

_No._

 

The last thing Killua found his hands stopping on made his blood freeze to ice and his body turn cold, rock like a statue. There was a quiet crinkling sound, the barest of his fingertips brushing over cool plastic and something soft but bumpy inside of it. When he pressed into it, it would yield to him, and he could keep on pushing as whatever it was would move away with some force and eventually part until his finger touched the hard floor surface underneath.

 

_No. No._

 

Killua choked on a gag of his own spit and stomach juices, clapping a hand over his lips as he leaned to the side and willed his damned hardest not to retch it out and his bodily sounds make Gon wake.

 

_No. No. No._

 

It took him a moment to regain what little composure he had left before he swallowed down on what lingered in his mouth, swinging back to the side as he grabbed hold of that foreign object from before and yanked it to his face; eyes wide and scrutinizing in the dark. Trembling hands grasped to either side, keeping it in place yet still shaky, and Killua dug his nails into the plastic so hard it ripped out the other side. His night vision zoned in and he recognized the dark, blurry shape the second it came into his view and his eyesight adjusted to the closeness.

 

_No._

 

He dropped it as soon as he saw it and with all the agility he possessed, he grabbed hold of Gon's discarded backpack and screamed soundlessly into the fabric as loud as he was able, bending forward against the thick material on his knees in order to do so. Killua screamed and screamed and Gon was still peacefully asleep beside him; a normal human being succumbed to nature's mechanics for a body's own slumber and personal maintenance time when one is at rest. Gon was going to sleep good tonight and feel and look absolutely great and rejuvenated the next morning.

 

Killua wasn't so sure even all his panic-filled screams and hoarse breathing or lack of air would knock him out at this point.

 

And so, he was reduced to nothing but a terrified mess as he cried out soundlessly again and again; uncontrollably into Gon's backpack, his gaze never leaving that single piece of plastic baggy at his feet.

 

Or the white, powdery drug called methamphetamine inside of it.

 

He stared at it like it was a lifeline; _his_ lifeline and not just Gon's, only worse.

 

And he screamed.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killua's the shadow spectator to Gon's descent as he spirals downhill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gonna be slow this weekish. Got the fair and work so hopefully will get back on schedule with this stuff next week. xD Sorry for the choppy updates bleh. It's gonna pick up again since I'm about to hit the chorus and all shit will hit the fan. I have it all planned out except the end so I'm totally pumped to get this done.
> 
> Thanks, again, for all this support lately. I'm so hyped! And appreciative.~
> 
> Enjoy.

“ **He started stealing, to supply the feeling.”**

 

Killua flipped a Greed Island game card between two fingers, watching its thin frame slip around his middle finger and end up nestled against his pinky and his forefinger. He was laying on a small rocky mound while Biscuit was training Gon to improve his new special _Nen_ technique: _Rock-paper-scissors_. It was a logical attack pattern in terms of what an Enhancer's capabilities were. Gon utilized his natural strength to compensate for his lacking speed by providing himself with a good, all-around range of attacks. His _Rock_ was strictly Enhancer and focused purely on his own power. _Paper_ utilized Emissary tactics and threw out his aura in a sphere-like shape, which gave him some leverage if faced with a long-distance foe. And _Scissors_ would be noteworthy if he could increase both range and strength to actually slice someone with his own _Nen_ and stretch it to a longer-than-normal reach.

 

Overall, Gon gave himself a nice set-up, albeit the entire concept was childish in nature.

 

“Book.”

 

 _Poof_ erupted the magical blue book in a puffy white cloud, floating high above his finger with a nestled ring wrapped around the knuckle. Killua took the card in his free hand and slid it into its appropriate free spot, staring at the big words **'Steal** ' across the top with a deep, creasing frown.

 

“Book.”

 

Away went the game object and he dropped his hand back to the ground lazily, letting it droop over the edge of the rock so the tips of his nails brushed the rocky cavernous dirt below. He slid his free palm over his face until the back of his wrist guarded his view from the blinding sunshine over head. It felt warm on his cold skin, chasing away the after-morning goosebumps, but the thoughts on his mind were anything but warming.

 

“ _Oi, Gon.” He had said, just yesterday when Gon happened to have his binder open in the air and was shuffling through his layout of free space cards._

 

“ _Hm, Killua?” Gon chuckled, lowering his in-game object just enough for his round, golden orbs to peek over, “Need something?”_

 

_Killua wedged his way in next to Gon on the small stump of dirt he sat on and nodded. “Yeah. What are you doing looking at your book?”_

 

“ _Just browsing through some of my free pockets.”_

 

_Leaning in close, he peeked at the filled spaces Gon was motioning towards. The first two pages were nothing but random monster cards that they had collected recently and yet to sell. Gon flipped to the next one and half the first sheet was full as well. However, as Killua's blue eyes scanned through, he caught note of one card that wasn't a monster card and immediately pointed at it; curiosity perked. He almost would have missed it seeing as it looked so much similar to the others, blending in, but he was glad to catch it nonetheless._

 

“ _When did you get that card?”_

 

“ _Oh, that one?” Gon laughed, rubbing at his neck sheepishly. “I picked that one up at the last store I went. Apparently if you buy enough of one card, you get one extra free. So they gave me this one as a bonus.”_

 

“ _A **Steal** card though? What, are they trying to promote stealing?”_

 

“ _Hahah. I don't think so, Killua.”_

 

“ _Then why the hell would they give you a **Steal** card as a bonus reward?”_

 

“ _Beats me.”_

 

_Killua rolled his eyes and reached forward, snatching the card from its pouch and flipped it over between his fingers, a smug grin on his face. “Then you won't mind if I **steal** this card do yah?”_

 

_There was a flash of some indescribable emotion in Gon's eyes that almost made Killua stop what he was doing, freeze in his tracks, but as soon as it came it was gone and Gon was smiling like the sun again._

 

“ _Sure, Killua. You can keep it. Consider it yours.”_

 

_Gon left right after saying he needed to use the bathroom and get started on his warm-ups before they trained, at the same time Biscuit was returning from the restroom with food in hand and ready for lunch._

 

If there was any consolation about the entire situation, it was that Killua definitely wasn't stupid.

 

Gon's story was totally bogus. The stores they sold their cards never offered ridiculous deals or bonuses like that; the game characters were so cut dry and transparent that it didn't take much to memorize the same straight-faced lines they repeated whenever you stopped by. Killua had the whole rehearsal from the information bargainers remembered by heart, much to his regret. So it was obvious Gon didn't just walk in and magically acquire a **Steal** card into his inventory.

 

Gon got it via other means.

 

Now, why Gon wanted or needed a **Steal** card was only partly beyond his imagination. Since Gon in general was unpredictable by nature; there could be any number of reasons why Gon would go out of his way to even get a **Steal** card. Killua knew already by the bravado speech he recited when they were first offered that alliance back in Antokiba; the city of prizes. How Gon wanted to play this game justly; the way it was designed to be played. How he was against cruel tactics and underhanded methods in obtaining game cards. How he wanted to play the game fair and square. That meant with the least amount of stealing as possible with what he can get away with.

 

So for a **Steal** card to be in Gon's possession after that little speech was quite a surprise on Killua when it came popping up in his binder.

 

They had let to be allowed the opportunity to buy spell cards yet – Biscuit's orders, and Killua made sure to confirm this when they had crossed paths in the city scouting for various new food cards.

 

“ _No spell cards, yet. I told this to Gon already twelve times. So, I hope to avoid repeating myself this with you.” Biscuit wiggled her finger in the air, like a true authoritarian._

 

“ _Number 4.” Killua said, despondently, and she giggled as she lowered the digit and the number from the air._

 

“ _Good, good.” A nod. “But I'm serious, Killua. We're not doing spell cards yet, not until you both pass the remainder of our training course. Then afterward, we will begin working on completing the game! There's no point in carrying all those spell cards with nothing to use them for let alone anything to protect. We don't have any special slot game cards yet. Once we start looking for them, only then will we actively seek out filling ourselves with magic spells. Understood?”_

 

“ _Yeah, yeah. I got it.”_

 

_She raised her finger back to the air._

 

_Killua only held one eye open and spoke up immediately. “Number 2.”_

 

_Biscuit bobbed her head with a giggle._

 

“Book.”

 

Killua opened his binder back up and held it close to him, eyeballing that same **Steal** card he took from Gon and frowned. If Gon wiggled his paws on this in absolute secrecy, then there had to be a viable explanation as to why. He was always straight-forward, his focus simple and tracing the same, dictated path making him easy to read, easy to anticipate.

 

And easily mislead.

 

Gon wanted a **Steal** card obviously to steal something. But what?

 

“Ne, Killua.” Gon's voice broke out over his troubled, blurred thoughts and he glanced up from his spot with a blink. There was a foul odor in the air, the stench of sweetened bleach making Killua's nose wrinkle in disgust. Although he wanted to plug it out from his nostrils, he pinched the inside of his own elbows to stop himself. Better to take a big whiff of it, to take a big whiff of _reality_ then to ignore it. “Do you know where my backpack went?”

 

“No, why?” Killua's sight followed Gon as he began rummaging around the area Killua lay, looking for it. “What do you need?”

 

“Just something from it, that's all.”

 

Gon found it parked over behind another boulder not too far off from their campsite, when he cheered out loud in that same, goofy way he always did when excited. Whooping, Gon thrust his pack to the air and did a little dance, wiggling his hips back and forth just like a child. Killua rolled his eyes.

 

“You're so stinking weird, Gon.”

 

“You're awesome too, Killua.”

 

_Idiot._

 

Trotting away, Gon waved and Killua barely made an effort to wave back, not wasting time to even open his eyes for that matter, before dropping both his arms flat across his face with a hefty sigh.

 

“Hey, Biscuit.” he called, after a moment, when the sound of her soft, dainty footsteps tread into range and he could clearly hear the quiet exhales of her breath from the said distance. “Can I ask you something?”

 

Biscuit came to a stop beside him, dropping an armload of goods in paper bags presumably piled with foods. “Hm, what is it Killua?”

 

“You're the one who's been paying for our food, right?”

 

“Well, of course. I manage the food and the money that goes into it because you two lack the cooking finesse to make a decent meal and I _certainly_ do you want you boys wasting perfectly good food.”

 

“So Gon isn't helping you or anything with our meals?”

 

“Nope. He did offer though, saying something about his Aunt Mito teaching him some things about how to cook..? I'm not sure who this Mito is but from the looks of it, he was pretty serious.”

 

Killua made a low 'hmmm' sound and rubbed his chin, staring straight up into the blue sky above. Not a cloud in sight; clear. But the air around him was noxious; toxic on his tongue, like a terrible aftertaste that even soap couldn't scrub out. He poked at it, letting it hang out and running his finger over the scratchy length. This flavor was worse then all the toxins and chemicals his family had subjected him too throughout his childhood. Much worse. “Is he helping to pay for anything else then that you can tell me?”

 

“Not that I know of.”

 

He didn't respond immediately to her, turning on his side to look forlornly in Gon's general direction, where he had left to, and was long since out of sight. “Why not, Killua?” Biscuit quarried, her head cocked to the side while she began to unwrap some fruits and vegetables from some carefully wrapped foil packaging, lips pursed out.

 

Blue eyes darted over to a faintly growing plume of smoking rising from the underbrush in the small row of trees parked just outside their stony campsite and he drew his arm up and over his face again, turning his vision from bright to dark.

 

_Gon's stealing something._

 

It was so obvious.

 

The smell, the taste, the sight.

 

_Drugs._

 

“Killua?” Biscuit tried again and the tiny laugh Killua made felt very, very wrong on him. “Why the sudden curiosity at least, if I may ask?”

 

_Gon's stealing for drugs using the exact method he swore he was against ever trying out._

 

“Oh, you know Biscuit. No reason.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killua's conversation with Leorio brings up a reality in his life he's been avoiding all along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly OOC I think. I dunno. It feels off to me. Sorry again that updates are gonna be slow for a bit. Work and shiz haha. But I'm cranking it out yep. Leorio is certainly gonna play a bigger role in this cuz come on; it's Leorio so TOO BAD MUHAHAHA. We'll see how this plays out tho of course.
> 
> Thanks!
> 
> Enjoy.

“ **Found out he pulled a knife on someone's wife and held it to her throat.”**

 

Eighty three text messages and forty seven missed calls.

 

That was what Killua found on his beetle cellphone the second he touched down from the boat leaving Greed Island and back into Dolle Harbor; back in the real world.

 

He didn't bother checking his emails. They were probably twice as bad.

 

Flipping on the power button to illuminate his screen, he started walking towards the location of the large cedar tree Gon mentioned; where he would find the _Navigators_ whom would guide him in the direction of the Hunter Exam testing site. He'd already registered per-landing, showered and freshened up in cleaner clothes, and was just now passing the huge map display sign that showcased the layout of Dolle Harbor and Zaban City. Because the tree was on the highest up hill in the port town; it would be a cinch for him to reach it with his destination clearly in sight.

 

“Leorio.. Leorio.. Zepile.. Leorio.. Milluki, _what the hell_ , bastard must be prank calling me. Leorio.. Unknown number.. Leorio..” Killua read off, pressing the down button and scrolled through the mass among the missed _everything_ piling on his poor little device. More then 75% of whatever he skipped was from Leorio.

 

Sighing, Killua carded his fingers through his slightly damp silver tresses from the earlier dew of the breezy ocean travel. Although he regretted not having his phone on (since they were in a _game_ after all), nor believing he could receive any kind of electronic signal in Greed Island, he felt pretty damned bad for purposefully (and slightly accidental) ignoring Leorio for so long. How long had it been? Months? _Wasn't it half a year, Biscuit mentioned, since we started?_

 

_Shit._ He checked the calender and dates on his phone, where he marked them leaving to play Greed Island. Just a few days over half an entire year.  _Oh, shit._

 

He could imagine how pissed off the Medic-to-be was.

 

Moving from his insane amount of missed calls to his text messages, he went to the most recent one and read. It was a big paragraph, no less, and Killua garnered it was to scold him or something about not answering his phone in very detailed orientated death threats that would have even the Zoldyck family cringing in mild fear.

 

It wasn't.

 

_[3 days ago] Leorio Paladiknight: 'Killua, please respond to one of your messages as soon as you get this. I know you're playing Greed Island, but I really need to talk to you. Zepile got a hold of me not too long ago and it was apparently something really bad and problematic and I'm really scared that it might be even worse. Hell, Kurapika's not answering or responding to his messages. Gon's phone apparently is out of service or some shit. And I can't even get a hold of you now! I'm not even sure if you know about it, but, please, please call me as soon as possible. Text. Email. Something. SOMETHING. Killua, please. Please. I need to talk to you about Gon. So when you get this, you better fucking answer, or so help me god I will kill you and-'_

 

The message cut off there and Killua's brow creased in puzzlement.  _Something problematic and bad? What could be worse then Gon still doing drugs?_

 

He narrowed down the list, watching simple messages pass by like _'Please just fucking respond asshole'_ from Leorio in many several worded lengths and using various, descriptive cuss languages; then towards the bottom where he found a few from Leorio and Zepile a long, long while ago that he didn't recognize nor remember ever seeing. _How did I never notice these?_ He didn't even remember having Zepile's number entered in his phone, but here it was, labeled and everything.

 

_[4 months ago] Zepile: Hey, what's up?_

 

_[4 months ago] Zepile: Why didn't you tell me Gon was using drugs?_

 

_[4 months ago] Zepile: What kind of drugs is Gon using? Is it the smoking kind? Or the snorting kind? Digestives? Patches maybe? Or is he using needles? The method in which he's using drugs is really important so you should know beforehand the dangers of each one at least. Do you at least know how he's doing them? Let me know as soon as possible because I'm concerned. Later._ \- Killua started wondering this himself, actually, but saved that thought for later.

 

_[4 months ago] Zepile: Killua? Are you okay? What happened with you two? Why were you fighting? When were you guys going to tell me Gon was using drugs? Has he been doing drugs since we met? Please answer when you're able to. I know we haven't known each other very long, but we're still pals, you know? I want to make sure you guys don't do something you might regret. Answer, when you can, please. Thanks._

 

“Zepile.” Killua murmured, closing his eyes, thinking back when he had amazingly found his way to the wild-brow appraiser through a sea of people in Yorkshin. He wasn't sure what compelled him, but after that intense fight with Gon and the brutal struggle between them until Gon escaped he blamed it on a possible panic-attack that drove him to Zepile. Maybe it was because Leorio and Kurapika were gone, leaving Zepile the last available source of support; the last one still offering some comfort in this confusing and painful-addled world.

 

Perhaps it was because of Killua's panic-filled lapse of judgment that guided him to Zepile; a lost child seeking out an adult figure-head for guidance and help. He still couldn't quite explain why he ended up with Zepile but it was too late now to turn back and regret his decision.

 

Zepile knew. What was done was done.

 

He glanced back down at his phone and found himself frowning right off the bat.

 

_[3 months ago] Leorio Paladiknight: Zepile told me Gon is using drugs._

 

Apparently, Leorio knew too. _Well, damnit._

 

Maybe Killua did regret it, a little bit now.

 

_[3 months ago] Leorio Paladiknight: Were you ever going to tell me? I mean, about this so-called fight of yours Zepile told me about. He told me everything, all the details. About finding you in the streets looking all beat up and shit in the middle of midnight AND in the pouring rain. On top of that, the fact you were chasing Gon who just stole drugs! Why did you lie to me before? You're the one who denied him using drugs. Was it always him or did you do it, too? When are you ever going to tell the truth and stop lying to us, Killua? Come on, we're your friends. Why can't you act like we are for a change and grow up?_

 

_[3 months ago] Leorio Paladiknight: Did I mention that I know you've got a drinking problem now, too? If I find out you're doing drugs AND drinking I will personally come find you in this stinking 'Greed Island' game and I will kill you a million times over that you won't even know what living feels like anymore, you brat._

 

He wasn't really surprised by Leorio's words, honestly. Killua was the wary type; trust didn't come easily to him and he assured forgiveness wouldn't come easily in accordance for his actions, either. He had a hard time trusting other outright, likewise people found it hard to trust him because of his behavior. It was a lose/lose situation.

 

_[3 months ago] Leorio Paladiknight: Please just answer your messages already, Killua. I'm really worried damnit._

 

_[3 months ago] Leorio Paladiknight: Killua.. come on.. where are you? You're still alive right? I mean, your phone obviously is, but are you? Gon's phone is completely disabled now so it's not like I can turn to him to stinking respond. Why won't you just answer already? Say something. Anything is okay, too! Call me whatever you want. You can call me an old man too, every single day, if it gets you to respond. Please, just answer, Killua. ANSWER YOUR PHONE!_

 

Normally, Killua would have laughed at how Leorio's texts gradually became more bi-polar; ranging from heavily upset and pleading to downright pissed and angry, screaming bold-faced and dramatically about how Killua can just  _fuck himself_ and all sorts of flowery goodness. But, as he scrolled, what placid, straight-mouthed expression he was wearing slowly became a deep, painful frown that made his face hurt the harder it pushed on his jaw, his cheeks, his heart.

 

It was probably guilt, too, that made him flick the button a few times until the big green  _Calling. . ._ message showed up and he was pressing the speaker to his ear and hearing Leorio's shrill, mighty yell bouncing on his ear drums.

 

“ _FUCK_ , Killua, is that you?! FINALLY. _Shit_ , I mean, damnit, I was so worried – Hell, you don't know how worried. I was frantic and hysterical and-”

 

Leorio started babbling and the ache in Killua's chest was the grim reminder that he still cared for the bumbling oaf of a guy, pausing right outside the town to stare at the bleak dirt path headed into the forest; to the highest cedar tree.

 

Leading him back to the Hunter Exam where all of this began.

 

Leorio may have been rambling for five minutes or more by the time Killua cleared the blockage from his throat and found the right words to speak, even if they didn't feel the same on his tongue when he said them. “Hey, Leorio. Look, I'm really sorry, okay? For everything and all the shit I've done. I'm really sorry and I-”

 

“ _Sorry_?” Leorio hissed and Killua found himself flinching when usually he'd shrug it off like every other time, “What the hell do you mean by _sorry_?”

 

“I'm sorry-?”

 

“Sorry ain't going to cut it you little shit! You think sorry is going to get you out of this, you're _dead wrong_.”

 

“I- I know. But I felt like I should say it, that's all.”

 

There was a string of curse words on Leorio's lips that Killua could feel through the phone, but he heard a low, throaty sigh and some shuffling before, “Okay, okay. It's fine, just, let's worry about getting proper apologies later. Right now, the real issue is Gon. Why didn't you ever answer to any of my calls or texts?”

 

“We were playing Greed Island. I guess I didn't think about my phone at the time, that's all. I mean, we are inside a _game_ after all.”

 

“ _Sigh._ Fine, whatever. Where are you now then if you aren't playing the game? Where's Gon?”

 

“I'm in Dolle Harbor. Gon's still in the game. I left because I came to pass the Hunter Exam real fast before the deadline is up so I can zoom back to him on Greed Island.”

 

“The Hunter Exam? Oh-” A snap of Leorio's fingers could be heard then a whistle, “Oh, right. I totally forgot about that. It's coming up n the next few days, isn't it? The deadline for registration is just before the end of the year so you should make it in time to enter.”

 

“I' m already registered and on my way to meet the Navigators as we speak.” He glanced again at the arrow sign pointing towards that same path again, kicking at a stray rock for the heck of it. “But then I was reading through all my missed notifications and found Mr. _Daddy-kins_ all worried about us and I just _had_ to answer to keep him from worrying so much. It was rather _endearing_.”

 

Killua wished Biscuit was here to sense the mockery in his voice, but Leorio's reaction was constellation enough to win him over for the lack in joking about his own mentor.

 

“ _Fuck_ you on every level, brat. _Fuck. You._ ”

 

“I heart you too, Leorio. _Heart. You._ ”

 

A loud, obnoxious _groan_ could be heard and Killua giggled against the back of his wrist to stay quiet. “Anyways, let's move on before I try to strangle you through the phone.” Leorio changed topics, rolling his words carefully on his tongue. Killua knew this by the way the older guy would make weird, soft exhaling breath sounds that seemed off, like he was thinking too hard and forgetting how to breathe properly at the same time. “I want to talk to you about Gon.”

 

“What about him?”

 

“I know he's doing drugs. Zepile told me.”

 

“..Right.” Killua picked at his words deliberately so as to not arouse suspicion because he definitely did not need Leorio on his case. Not now anyway. “Well, about that, you see-”

 

“You can't lie to me now Killua. I know the entire story and you aren't getting out of this that easy. Give in and fess up.”

 

“Fine.” He resented without thinking and was shocked at his own willingness to drop it like that. Had he really become that hopeless in the steadfast decline of his best friend into the world of drugs?

 

Probably so.

 

“What kind of drugs is he using?”

 

“Meth.” The hand that wanted so desperately to cover his own mouth; cover up his own words, cover up Gon's own _tracks_ and _mistakes_ , was shaking, but not quite moving yet. Why was it so easy to confess when all those earlier times had been so much harder?It didn't make sense.

 

“When did he start using them?”

 

“Sometime a month before the Greed Island games were being auctioned off.”

 

“Did you use them too?”

 

“No.”

 

“Then what about that stuff I found on your pants? The smell? At that restaurant back then?”

 

“We were bunking in the same room, Leorio. We throw our clothes wherever and all our stuff is always mixed up. Some of his stuff got on my clothes and I didn't realize it. That, and the whole place stinking smells when he smokes, okay? It _reeks._ And since I just so happened to be staying in the same room of _course_ I was going to smell the same way, too.”

 

“Makes sense.” Leorio hummed and Killua gawked at how easily the man believed him. “The smell of drugs linger and sticks to clothing better then anything so it'd be pretty simple that it was just the odor of his Meth stuck on your clothes that we smelled.”

 

Killua rolled his eyes to the none-too obvious information coming as no surprise to him. “Wow, loving the vote of confidence here after you and Kurapika so kindly yelled and blamed me for the whole ordeal.”

 

“Yeah, about that. I'm real sorry, man.” apologized Leorio, the sweet ring of his regret may have been music to Killua's ears if he was paying close enough attention. But the pit in his chest locked behind his bruising rib cage was more then a distraction to this testament. “What we said back there was harsh and out of boundaries. I apologize.”

 

“Whatever, just get to the point already.” In a way, it was Killua's own personal manifestation of forgiveness and he felt Leorio's smug grin straight through his speak phone.

 

“Awe, how cute. Someone's all flustered.”

 

A red blush colored milky white skin and Killua hissed. “ _Shut up,_ wrinkly bastard.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, you snot.” scoffed Leorio and he cleared his throat, “The point of the matter is, Gon is using drugs and we have to stop him. He's still doing drugs now, right?”

 

“Well, yeah. When I found Zepile he told me that he'd quit, and he did as far as I thought. He went cold-turkey and stopped using them altogether, and then some other shit came up, and we kind of-”

 

Killua bit on the inside of his mouth to stop himself. _Had sex_ , he almost said, confessed to their underage crime, and he forced himself to halt before he made things even more worse with the accentuation of involving drugs into their lives. If he added in sex, they'd be so screwed. He couldn't afford to tell Leorio _all_ the truth, so he'd have to weave himself a good web of lies to avoid more conflict, get stuck in a dangerous and inescapable position.

 

“-Kind of just got pretty lost and depressed. I stopped drinking and he stopped doing drugs and for awhile we were doing sort of okay. And then sometime during the game I found Gon had gotten a hold of more Meth. I don't know how but he did.”

 

“They seriously have _Meth_ in a game?”

 

“They sell alcohol, too. This game is pretty realistic if I had to say so myself. They have food you can eat and places to sleep, _hell_ , you even have to use the bathroom in it. I don't know what type of game it is, but it definitely feels real. The only thing it doesn't follow is that it uses card spells and has its own currency. Otherwise, it seems just like real life.”

 

“This game must really be pretty well-made then. Wasn't it made by Hunters, too?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“One sec.” Leorio muffled and movement was heard. There was more shuffling then, a few things creaking and groaning, and Leorio's loud, thunder some footfalls on carpet was made known. Killua picked at his teeth in the meanwhile, blue eyes tracing the lines of the bushes dotting the forest edge. A door slammed shut and Leorio spoke up again, voice more subdued then before. “Okay. Real quick since I have to go shortly, but how exactly is Gon using the drugs?”

 

“Zepile said something like that.” Killua commented, thoughts returning to earlier and all those methods Zepile mentioned that a drug could be taken. He never paid much attention to the way Gon used them as much as he was simply _using them in general_. “I guess I've only ever seen him smoking in it little white wrapper things. And once or twice I saw him trying to snort it but he said it burned his nose too much and I don't think he ever tried it again.”

 

“Okay, that's not so bad then.” Leorio started only for Killua to sputter and shake the phone in an exasperated breath.

 

“ _Not so bad_? What the hell is that supposed to mean, you bastard?! Gon's using drugs and you said it's _not so bad_. You're an asshole!”

 

“Calm down, _Killua_. I am only referring to how he's using them. If he started using needles or something else more dangerous, he could get seriously sick or worse. If he's wrapping it up and just smoking it, then his dangers are much less at least. And I am not an asshole.”

 

Killua grumbled but said nothing, and the squeak of a chair as Leorio plopped into it came next. “Since that's settled, I wanted to ask if Gon has ever stolen anything that you know of.”

 

“Stolen anything?” The ex-assassin wondered, scratching at his nose. If Gon was stealing, he'd never find out. Gon had a **Steal** card which busted him out right off the bat, but what he was stealing couldn't be easily guessed. Killua figured it'd be money to buy drugs, since Gon would not be able to tell what players already had drug cards in their binders. In turn, that meant he had a source and he simply needed to feed his income to feed his addiction. “Probably money. That's all I can think of him doing, honestly. Money is kind of hard to get in Greed Island so I can imagine he might steal money if it meant he needed drugs.”

 

“Nothing else? Come on kid, there has to be more then just that.”

 

“Oi, I'm not a kid.” Killua retorted, though his voice sounded lazy and bored more then anything. “And I guess he had some woman's rings once. I found a letter in his backpack from his Aunt Mito saying she sent them to him, but he never told her why. Later on we discovered he was selling them for Greed Island currency if that amounts to anything.”

 

Leorio's lips smacked together noisily and Killua hated that sound with a passion. “I heard about that, actually. His Aunt tried to get a hold of me asking if I've spoken to Gon recently and that she needed to make sure he was okay. And about something else that was urgent.”

 

“Guess that confirms Gon wiggled his way into the jewelry, then, in order to make some quick cash. Even if it means he lied to his Aunt about it.” Those words were bitter on Killua's tongue and he'd rather taste poison then this, honestly. Gon was not much for lying, _ever_ , but Gon was neither the same person he was before, either. Not anymore.

 

“Alright,” breathed Leorio, voice strained, “Then this means we have a serious issue on our hands. That's all the conformation I need to know this is getting real out of control and needs to be dealt with.”

 

“Why is that? He's stolen rings and cash. How is that, that bad?”

 

“Because.” Leorio started and his next words swept Killua away in a tidal wave of change he wasn't remotely prepared for.

 

He's grown up with Gon these past years, lived and breathed the same air; the same space their own world. His best friend and the only one who's ever known him rightfully, supported him and had his back as he's had Gon's. But the brutal truth that reality wasn't so sweet; sweet like Gon's caramel skin or his forest mint flavor on his tongue, or the sweet caress of his words in his ear, his body moving on his in joined unison, and lastly the sweet ring of their voices mingled in a song of mocking love and unjust passion – Hurt him.

 

It hurt, more then Leorio's own words, because he had been denying this fact for so long that it had become ingrained and he _believed_ it. But now, what was there to believe?

 

“Because, Zepile told me Gon pulled a knife on someone's wife and tried to slit her throat. He tried to kill her, Killua. He honest-to-God tried to kill some random, innocent bystander for drugs.”

 

The phone dropped and Killua didn't catch the last thing Leorio said because he was too busy shoving his fists into his eyes and fighting back all the sobs and screams he wished he could bring to the surface.

 

But all that came out was mute sound, nothing but air; and since _nothingness_ was Killua's world all along, he was ready for it.

 

Just not ready for all the pain it rained down upon him in the process.

 

Gon, wasn't Gon anymore.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Biscuit takes the initiative and speaks to Gon and realizes the answer to her own question without it even being asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another two part bit and will be followed up in the next one. I'm on the verge of the chorus and pumped to just explode out some drama and angst and yep. So hope ya'll are ready for it and I hope I can put it out the way I want to. I'm gonna try to start changing my writing style a little because I really dislike it. A lot. So, if it sounds off now and again, its me being a shit head and playing with my own writing. Yep. Slightly OOCish on Gon's part too. I'm playing with his character in a drugged up world trololol.
> 
> Thanks, as always. You guys are the best.
> 
> ENJOY.

“ **But I can still remember what his face looked like.”**

 

Biscuit sat beside a very-intently focused Gon as he stared, hard-pressed at the tiny little ball of  _ Nen _ hovering at the tip of his index finger, face pushed and tense in concentration. “Hey Gon.” She said, head canted towards him, “Are you okay?”

 

“Yeah?” Gon blinked, once, then lowered his finger and glanced at her with a sideways curious expression. “I'm okay, Bisky. I think I've almost got this down now! See?” He held his digit back up and waved the yellowish orb around in the air, watching it stay stuck to his nail as it maintained its round, soft form. “A few more tries and I think I'll have it down perfectly!”

 

“That's nice, Gon. You're progressing very quickly. I am very impressed with how much you've grown.” She murmured, placing her chin on a gloved hand and peered over at the small rock sitting several feet away. The rock she instructed Gon to throw his Emission attack towards. If he can launch that small sphere on his finger and successfully hit the rock without his _Nen_ breaking _,_ then he would have passed his first step in learning how to master his secondary technique; _Paper_. But ever since her talk with Killua, helping Gon learn to buff up his _Nen_ attacks wasn't really what had been lingering on her mind.

 

With Killua gone off to complete the Hunter exam and obtain his license; this left Biscuit and Gon alone together to train. And possibly do much more then that, if she can pick her words carefully in a way not to scare Gon off from talking openly towards her, let her learn a thing or two that she knew she'd never weasel out of Killua.

 

Biscuit and Killua were one in the same: Once a liar, always a liar. That was one of the many common traits Transmuters shared among themselves. And if she knew any better, she fathomed he must be one hell of a liar to cover up their tracks. The path she's peeked at; the one they tread, was nigh invisible and undetected. This would be a struggle. It was enough she had managed to wiggle the confession of them having sex to the open air, but prying out that one last secret was going to be a much harder ordeal in this case.

 

On top of that, it wasn't Killua per say who was the one hiding something. It was Gon.

 

She knew she must approach this cautiously. Gon was an Enhancer; simple minded and earnest. But in all the 50 years of her  _ Nen _ training and ripe, lively age; she knew a ticking time bomb when she saw it. Gon was that exception to your typical Enhancer attitude just on the premise that he was unstable, uncontrollable, and  _ wild  _ in nature.

 

Both boys were the biggest handful she's had to juggle in a very,  _ very _ long time.

 

“Hey Gon.” she spoke up, again. Gon just broke apart his ball of _Nen_ and was whining audibly with frustration.

 

“Yeah, Bisky?” Gon turned, settled down immediately, and smiled with all sparkly white teeth included.

 

“Can I ask you a question?”

 

“A question?” He perked, wiggling his finger once a new ball of _Nen_ appeared above it, dancing on the edge, then nodded. “Sure, what is it?”

 

“Why are you and Killua having sex if you aren't in a relationship?”

 

Gon choked on a breath of air, flailed, and lost his concentration. The audible pop and crackle of his stored  _ Nen _ burst and the backlash sting against his hand made Gon squeal high-pitched until his voice crack. Biscuit stifled a laugh against his wrist, waiting for him to settle, before he sunk back on his rock seat and glowered, cheeks puffed like a little kid.  _ How cute. Killua and Gon have cute reactions for mere boys. _

 

“What are you talking about, Bisky? Killua and I aren't-” He licked his lips, a faint blush rising on his tanned cheeks, “-aren't doing anything like _that_.” He gestured his hands out at random, like he was trying to accentuate his words into another meaning and obviously struggling. Biscuit guessed that Gon must have at least a decent amount of courteousness, unlike Killua and his blatant shyness that deterred him from being open and honest with himself. Killua would deny the truth for as long as he could prolong it and Gon would try to ease himself away from it, but undoubtedly she figured he'd give in eventually.

 

“Yes you two are. You can't hide it from me, Gon, I know you've both been having sex.” She pointedly brushed her gloved fingers across his forehead a moment before she flicked him hard in the head. “So don't try to lie to me about this, okay? You can be honest. I'm not going to be mad.”

 

Gon whimpered and rubbed at the painful spot on his forehead, pouting. “Okay, okay. Sorry, Bisky. We're just having sex because we want to. It feels good. Is there something wrong with doing something that makes you feel good?”

 

“No.” Biscuit rose a brow, because Gon had a point. There was nothing wrong with feeling good, but she pressed on to decipher if Gon knew the consequences that comes with good feelings to someone who isn't matured enough yet to be experience it. “There's nothing wrong with that, but you do know the complications that can rise from having sex, don't you?”

 

“We use protection.” 

 

“Besides using protection.”

 

“We're really clean about it.”

 

“Besides being clean.”

 

“We have each others consent.”

 

Biscuit sighed. Gon was avoiding the whole focus on having sex. Sure, it was great he was being cautious and doing it the safe and the correct way, but he was still missing the point of the matter. A matter that, being so young, he wouldn't catch, because that was how teenagers worked. She should know, she was once one herself in the same place; the same spot and caught in the same exact act. It was something they all shared in common – Innocent, human curiosity and an evasive attention span of anything that might deter one from the their own screwed up sense of logic.

 

“That's good you're both doing all that and are willing, but you're not catching what I'm referring to, Gon.”

 

“Then what is it?”

 

“Sex is supposed to be shared between two people who are _mature_ enough to handle the repercussions of their actions. You and Killua are only _teenagers_ for Christ's sake. You shouldn't be having sex this young at age!”

 

“What does age have to do with when you can have sex? If you're mature enough at any age, then can't you have sex?”

 

Biscuit did a f ace palm. “Nobody can reach maturity until they enter adulthood, Gon. That doesn't count no matter how mature you  _ think _ you are. You aren't.”

 

Gon's face scrunched up humorously, but he looked more angry then anything. “That's not very nice. It's like you're calling us stupid. Which, I know I'm stupid, but still.”

 

“Just listen to yourself, Gon! You shouldn't be having sex! Who even taught you about sex, anyway?”

 

“No one. I learned it on my own and went from there.”

 

_Who the hell even raised these boys?!?_

 

“Are you telling me nobody told you about sex when you were growing up? Parents? Relatives? Anyone?”

 

“Well, Aunt Mito did mention it once, but we never got to finish the conversation when I left Whale Island to pursue my goal in becoming a Hunter.” Gon tapped his chin. “But otherwise, she never got to give me that 'Birds and the Bees' talk I heard a lot about. So I had to take matters into my own hands and learn it myself.”

 

Biscuit's jaw dropped. “What about Killua then? Has he ever said where he's learned it from?”

 

“Probably his family. They're pretty strict. That and he used to watch a lot of porn back then, too, so he probably learned a lot from that.”

 

_Holy- Are you kidding me?!_

 

“Gon-”

 

He interrupted her, holding up his hand with a small hum, “Our friend Kurapika told me some stuff, too. I asked him about gay sex and he told me about using protection and how it works. Kurapika was really educational and knew a lot of stuff so he told me about everything I needed to know. As long as I use protection and I'm being safe, then Kurapika said sex is normal and healthy for anybody at any age.”

 

Biscuit felt her eyebrows twitch annoyingly.  _ Whoever the hell this Kurapika guy is, needs his screws twisted and adjusted, because he's gone and blew these poor kid's heads way out of proportion! This is too messed up for me. Somebody has to do something and set these boys back in place before it's too late! _

 

“Gon, from now on, as long as you two are being trained under my guidance I will forbid you from having sex with each other.”

 

“What! Why?” Gon exclaimed and Biscuit drew away because Gon looked ready to jump at her; his muscles taut and wired like he might burst like a cannon any second. “Why can't we have sex? That's not fair!”

 

“Because, I said so! I told this to Killua, too; that he needs to think about his actions and stop before it gets worse. I don't want to see you two get hurt doing something so stupid like this. You aren't ready to be having sex. So, my decision is final!”

 

_BANG._

 

Biscuit's eyes widened and she barely missed ducking beneath the rubble of the nearby rock Gon smashed his fist through. As surprised as she might have been in all seriousness when her student suddenly decides to swing their fist and blow through solid rock with no real purpose or warning beforehand, it was Gon's face that petrified her the most.

 

There was anger flashing in those golden irises; a fire burning like a hateful wildfire, scorching and hot, and Biscuit felt the pulsating heat from where she sat only a foot away. Blood dripped from Gon's knuckles and she realized he had use little  _ Nen _ to guard it as much as he had used to attack instead. There was some discolored bruising on her cheeks where she couldn't escape the trajectory of the rocks being thrust out at incredible speed, and she brushed a thumb over her cheek to confirm where she had taken a hit.

 

At Gon's sides, his fists shook with rage and she swallowed, a bead of nervous sweat on her brow at imagining how much harder a hit she may have taken if those fists had aimed for her, despite her expert  _ Nen _ ability.

 

_I've never seen someone so mad before._

 

“Gon, are you okay?” She hesitantly asked, not liking the sight in which she was forced to see. She was so used to seeing Gon all teeth, all smiles; with light and good cheer and those cheesy fantasies of sunshine and rainbows a halo on the background in which Gon Freecs stood, laughing and _happy_. She was used to him waking up every morning, bruised bumps on his head but filled with piss and vinegar, ready to greet the day and resume his training; a full frontal assault of determination and concentration. And above all; genuine _desire_.

 

Every day he went at it head on but in a positive way and this was nothing short of negative in her view.

 

She wasn't used to this Gon Freecs, seething with hidden rage, bubbling up in the pits of his gut to the acid in his throat and threatening to spit out like fire from the dragon's maw. He was visibly shaking, like his trembles would contain all the things he wanted to do, physically and mentally. Gon was biting his lip and Biscuit clearly saw the blood sliding down his chin as thick as that which freckled his knuckles in the same way the freckles on his bronzed skin were slick with sweat.

 

She hated seeing this look as much as Gon probably hated her right about now, for denying something she presumed brought him immense satisfaction to make up for a far-fetched situation. Greed Island was complex, complicated, and too soon were two young adolescent boys thrust into a world she knew they weren't remotely prepared for. Battera should have enforced an age limit when he was interviewing for game candidates. They didn't have enough real-world experience to challenge a game obviously meant for grown-ups, or at least, those more ready to see the carnage and drama of real-life day reenacted in a virtual world. Whatever had brought them together in that moment; made their bodies join as one, was presumptuously not something that was supposed to happen, yet it did, and she gathered it may have been from conflicting emotions that did them in. Greed Island did this to them.

 

_Lost. Scared. Confused. Alone._

 

When Gon had said they were mainly here in search of hinting clues towards his father's whereabouts; she actually wanted to laugh. Why these two boys joined on the premonitions that it would give Gon clues to finding his dad; she did not know. How a Hunter's game designed for only the bravado of men, the steel willed and strong tempered and the  _ Nen _ enriched; had a pair of growing teenagers fighting in the midst was something she truly sought answers for but was too frightened to take that last step and get down to the bottom of it. Age told her to tread carefully with life and seeing Gon's fury happen now was one of many reasons that kept her discouraged from seeking out the truth.

 

There were some things, Biscuit knew you should never know about.

 

After a long, stilling pause, Gon coughed and Biscuit's head snapped up in surprise. “It's nothing.” He said in a low monotone, voice a quiet and hushed register of it's usual bouncy, upbeat pitch. He pushed his bloodied hand into the pocket of his tight shorts and turned so his face was shadowed by the misdirection of the sun's rays on him. “It's nothing.” He repeated to himself and begun walking away, his back on her.

 

_ It's not nothing.  _ Biscuit versed, shutting her eyes on the image of Gon escaping his own fate simply by walking away. His back was turned, not just on her, but everything she knew was haunting him; a second shadow on his heels. Grim and foreboding. 

 

She twitched her nose, smelling a rancid odor left behind by his presence that singed her nostrils, like cinder and smoke, and she scrunched it up with both fingers pinched at the bridge. She hadn't noticed it there before, not until he left, and the ash of his smell lingered behind. The foul stench made her eyes water, the bleach chemicals strong, sweet, and seductive.

 

Biscuit recognized exactly what this smell was on him that she had been keeping tabs on ever since they met. But now, it was worse, so far worse; and yet all he had done was simply walk away.

 

_There's more to it than that._

 

She looked up, lowering both hands to seat in her lap, and sighed. Gon was nowhere to be seen and her heart sunk in the dark, overhanging cloud that blanketed the land in its somber atmosphere. Everything around her was black again and she missed that light in those two boys she found in the beginning.

 

She missed it, dearly. Her two precious gems were nothing but lumps of coal, now.

 

_So why, Gon, must you keep lying to yourself about it?_


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gon and drugs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The shit is hitting the fan suckas muahahaha - I mean.
> 
> The canon divergence begins (sort of?) It's about to start escalating to the more graphic part about drugs here, so not even the seat belt will save you now. I want to actually talk more about the effects and the use of it, alongside other minor details so people get a grasp about what is Meth. It's much more potent and strong then ur average Cocaine/Heroine, etc shiz so eh. If you don't like that stuff, you might wanna avoid this because I'm gonna get heavy. Or at least try to without freaking myself out.
> 
> This is more in Gon's POV and there will be several more of these until Killua returns and all hell (should) break loose. I'm getting to the turning point so I will hopefully try to post more of these sooner. Ehh.
> 
> Thanks, again, to all those supporting me. Comments and all the likes and such. I'm so pumped oh yeahz.~
> 
> Enjoy.

“ **When I found him in an alley in the middle of the night.”**

 

“It sure is crowded in the streets of Masadora with it being this late at night. I wonder what the rush is for.” commented Biscuit as she walked alongside Gon through the bustling throng of people flooding down the narrow streets in the City of Magic. It was only just touching down ten at night and there was twice as many people in the later hours then there was during the day. She occasionally had to reach out and snag Gon before he strayed too far out of sight or was pulled in by the magnetic force of bodies moving in two separate directions. Even if his head of spiked hair gave him away, it'd be impossible to find him with so many others twice his size and towering his short, lacking height.

 

Gon fidgeted in place from an unidentifiable itch he couldn't scratch, when they paused at the corner of the sidewalk and she was scavenging for that one shop they always went to. The one with all the girly accessories and designer fashion clothes. “Is there an event going on, Bisky?”

 

“I don't think so but it would explain why there's so many people out tonight. I haven't seen this many people around before.”

 

“Over there.” Gon pointed, finding the building Biscuit was hunting for and she gave a small cheer and skipped over to it. He was forced to follow or lose his mentor; and he didn't want to go through the trouble of finding her without any Spell cards at his disposal.

 

As he trailed behind her, he started scratching halfheartedly at the inside of his armpits, careful to keep the cuffs of his spare green coat Biscuit bought him over the exposed parts of his scabbed, reddish skin. The breeze outside was chilly and although Gon grew up exposed to extreme climates, his body protested otherwise and forced him to wear something more homely. The angry scarlet glow would easily give away how often he picked at the skin there, scratched until it bled, and Gon didn't need Biscuit on his back about it. Not after she was already clawing her way up about him and Killua having sex, anyways.

 

It was his problem. He would deal.

 

“Ne, Bisky.” Gon piped up, jumping forward a few paces when he'd fallen behind in his own thoughts, “What are you going to get from the store, anyway?”

 

“I want to buy some new hair bands. The one's I have now are wearing out and any self-respecting _woman_ has to keep up with what goes on her body, does she not?” Biscuit's eyes twinkled in an unfamiliar light and Gon shrugged out of sheer misunderstanding. Girls and their ways of life were much different then a boys; at least in Mito-san's self-respecting words, so Gon never took it to heart what went on in a female's mind.

 

He was lost in his own mind already, as it was.

 

“Okay? Is that all we came here for?”

 

“Of course not, but I can't expect somebody like _you_ to understand.” Biscuit was laughing and Gon felt the invisible joke fly right over his head and onward. “Ohohoho!”

 

They stopped in front of the doorway inside and Gon scratched the edge of his chin with an uncomfortably sounding chuckle. “Uhm, alright. Bisky, do you mind if I go to another store for a little bit and grab something? I'll be done before you, so I'll wait right here until Bisky's done.”

 

“That's fine. Go do your own thing.”

 

“Okay. Bye.” They both waved each other off and Gon strolled away to the distant _ding_ of bells as Biscuit went inside her favorite girly store. As a necessary precaution, Gon figured it would be best if he at least went inside someplace for a little while, just to avoid arising suspicion if Biscuit were to be watching him. Gon was fully aware that someone had been spying on him as of late, but he didn't pay much heed to it when he was busy occupying himself with other things. He wanted to play it safe; better safe than sorry.

 

He went into the nearest building; a bustling information cafe, and headed straight into the bathroom the second he stepped foot into the warm, honey-coated atmosphere. It felt too hot even going inside that nice, comforting lounge and Gon felt sweat already gathered beneath his hair line, on the back of his neck, on the creases of his forehead; clammy and shaky just thinking about having to stay there too long. The eyes would be on him; he knew, and he couldn't handle that sort of thing when he already looked like an outcast as it was. He was an oddball of sorts – Gon did not need nor want the attention.

 

Luckily, the bathroom was empty and very clean; new fixtures, nice well kept stalls, and even the mirrors lacked their usual fog and grime that built over time with minuscule care. He picked the furthest stall and immediately slipped inside, locking the door with a  _ click,  _ before he slumped down on the toilet seat and let his face fall into his hands.

 

_This sucks._

 

Gon firstly pulled off the jacket once he regained enough control of the tremors in his body and threw it to the floor, not caring if it got dirty or gross in stagnant waste water from leaking toilets. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small roll of bandages, his hands shaking so hard it was difficult trying to unwrap them from its tight-knit folding job. Gon glanced at the underside of his right armpit, where his nails had scratched until it bled; where the flesh there looked like it went through a meat grinder, and he ripped off a piece of bandage with his teeth.

 

The bleeding was starting to get heavy from where he dug too deep and Gon peeked closely, inspecting the wound there. Still believing there were still bugs crawling beneath the skin; he reached up and scratched again. The itchy feeling worsened as soon as the pads of his fingers touched it and he immediately started clawing at it again, digging until the blood coated his nails and the resulting pain of pushing too far into his muscle made him snap back to reality. Gon flinched with a gasp and grabbed a handful of toilet paper from the nearby dispenser, yanking so fast at the device it ended up breaking from his strength and the cheap paper spilled all around his feet.

 

He ignored it; however, and kicked his legs to untangle his boots, pushed them onto the toilet edge, and hastily wiped at the thick, mucous red fluid pooling under his arm. As soon as he soaked one handful enough he chucked it into the toilet; the soft plop not helping his sanity any more then necessary. There was a sense of vertigo here; as he repeated the process over and over again where the insects crept beneath his skin like there were tunnels inside, endless amounts of paths and roads for them to travel and the resulting world brought him into a realm of pain, of an itch he couldn't scratch, couldn't satisfy no matter how far he shoveled in.

 

Gon still couldn't cleanse the blood under his nails which is why he painted them black.

 

Because black color dominated red.

 

When he finally managed to stop the bleeding, he quickly took the piece of bandage and wrapped until it was snug and tight, possibly even cutting off circulation, but Gon couldn't feel it or notice the slight blue tinge his skin took when he tied it into a knot and forgot all about it once he moved to his opposite side next. There were bugs there too and he scratched, picking at the slightly less abused skin there, until small drops of blood kissed his blunt nails and Gon didn't feel the creepy crawlies anymore. He dabbed toilet paper there also, just in case, and wrapped more bandage on it to cover the blotchy surface.

 

Moving to his abdomen now, he balled up his tank-top until it was half-way up and checked the cuts and nicks there, from where he experimented with razors coated in drugs just for the hell of it. Someone had said it felt nice to have the burn of Meth on your skin and the only way Gon thought he could do it was with an easily accessible razor.

 

The skin around the marks was flamed, red and swollen and puffy, and Gon poked at it a few times to make sure there were no bugs there either. There was a little bit of white gunk; presumably puss, gathered around one rather large cut but nothing else. He didn't feel an itch there, so he took some bandage, wrapped up the inflicted marks, and dropped his shirt and forgot about it; like he did with all the others.

 

Gon had exceptional healing abilities. He'd be fine enough to fight off a minor infection, right?

 

His thighs were a little more worse for wear; jagged lines and ugly looking patches of peeled back skin, folded and bent and showcasing all the fresh, pinkish meat under it. Gon had picked his thighs as the war zone for his emotional burdens for a reason – It was easy to disguise and hide beneath the same, tacky green shorts he always wore. They were just bulky enough to conceal his slim, tanned thighs and it was the most room he could sink his nails into without having to cover them in frantic worry of being discovered.

 

Killua might have been the only one to take note of it when they were having sex, but he never did say anything, so Gon figured it'd be alright to continue. It felt good, having something to vent his frustration and anger out on; whether it be his torso or his thighs since his arms were much more exposed and much more used.

 

He needed them for another reason soon, anyway.

 

Gon licked his thumb and rubbed a bit of saliva over a few festered, bloody spots, wiped them away with toilet paper, and bandaged them right after. The rest of his wrapping was gone so he busied himself with collecting all the spilled paper on the floor and cramming it into the toilet. It took him a few tries to get it to flush but he finally managed and stepped out of the stall to a few other younger looking males; somewhere around his age, bored and checking themselves out in the available mirrors.

 

_Perfect timing._

 

As casually as he could muster in a state such as his current predicament; the bugs inside his body were borderline insanity for the most part but he was learning to tolerate, Gon stepped up to the last remaining faucet and twisted on the knob for cold water. He dipped his hands into the crispy, icy liquid and sighed, a smile on his mouth with his eyes shut. The words that slipped past his lips next were practiced, easily rehearsed, and the only thing he could clearly remember best compared to anything else so far in his life.

 

“Ne, ne. Did _Tina_ come today?”

 

“Of course she did. _Chrissy,_ too.” One of the boys instantly replied, tone as dead as his expression. “She brought the _ice_.”

 

“Better watch out or she'll _tweak_ the _glass_ if there's ice involved _._ ” The second one responded, a cheeky smirk twitching at the corner of his lips, blotched white with faint chalky spots around it. 

 

“I told you, she likes to _crank_ that shit up, ass hole. Whenever there's ice in a glass involved, she's a freak. You're such a moron. It's so stupid.”

 

“Did she at least do it quick?” Gon interjected, trying to hold back a knowing laugh but it came out as a weird giggle instead, “You know. Uses her special brand of _speed_ and agility to at least do it?”

 

“See? _Chalk_ it up to this weirdo to know what I'm talking about.” The first boy scoffed, reaching into his pocket to pass a brown paper sack into Gon's eagerly waiting hands. Gon stuffed it into his own inside jacket pocket before he slid a card himself across the faucet, nonchalantly letting it fall in for the other guy to take. He flips it up between two fingers with a cool flare that Gon distantly remembers it being rather _Killua_ -like, and the pair nod to each other in confirmation when they glance at it together.

 

“I do know what I'm talking about, don't I?” rushed Gon while trapped in the zone of their impeccable acting cover-up, a touch of humor in his voice, though neither male looked touched by the funnies when they stared at him, dead panned. “What?”

 

“Whatever. I'm outta here.” The boy on the end shrugged, leaving the bathroom, and the first one slipped the card-turned-bill into the outer pocket of his vest with a devious smirk. Gon's face dropped, a lump in his throat, hard-pressed and as painful an ache as that which blanketed beneath his skin, laid over his bones and caressed him every day.

 

The same way Meth did to his life, in these instances where he was reminded that the brief moment of fun, of pleasure talking it up with strangers like they were actually  _ friends _ , buddies, or even remotely near to being considered  _ close _ – Was all in fact one big lie.

 

Kind of like Gon's life, truthfully.

 

“See you later, you fucking Meth junkie.” He spat, actually _spitting_ a wad of yellowish colored gunk onto Gon's boot, and the amber-eyed teen quietly watched him go, left him standing in absolute bone-chilling silence.

 

And absolutely alone.

 

_I'm such an idiot._

 

Turning on his heel, Gon glanced back in the mirror and reassessed the image of himself; disheveled and messy. His hair was a disaster, onyx spikes jutting out in every direction like a bad case of bed head and his eyes had huge shadows hanging beneath them; nothing like the patches of red and white painting his golden hues like a terrible make-up job. He scrunched up his nose in disgust and splashed some water on his face thinking it might brighten up his complexion but all it succeeded in doing was giving him a glossy appearance, bronzed skin still dull behind the freckling water droplets.

 

_ I look terrible. A terrible idiot. _ Gon frowned, fuming. How long had it been since he saw his own face in a mirror? It had to be a week or more at best since they visited Masadora. With their training schedule, Biscuit kept them busy. Did Killua see this all the time? What did he think?

 

_He must think I'm disgusting._

 

Gon splashed more water on his face a few times in a way that might control his raging thoughts and all it did was piss him off further. The water wasn't helping and neither was the icy chill of freezing cold liquid stinging his flushed cheeks.

 

_Killua must think a lot of things about me. Just like those guys do every time I meet up with them for this._

 

**Trash.**

 

**Junkie.**

 

**Addict.**

 

**Worthless.**

 

**Scum.**

 

_**Shit-** _

 

_God, damnit-_

 

_SMASH._

 

Even Gon wasn't so sure of himself when he heard a scream in his head and suddenly there was a jet of gushing water flying through the air, the broken remains of a porcelain sink crashing to pieces around his scuffed boots.

 

He blinked a few times to register the bruised, bloodied knuckles of his right hand and the fact that it was glowing with a furious golden color, his  _ Nen _ sparking like a furious flame around it. And then he knew it was he who just destroyed the sink in one blind swing, shattering it into the remains that lay on the floor. It happened so fast all it took was one bat of the eyes to go from a completely normal scene; a boy's restroom unscathed and all clean – to totally destroyed and ransacked by a band of thieves, or in this case, a solo activist.

 

Gon sighed out the breath he didn't realize he had held back, slid his wounded fist into the pocket of his shorts, and dragged his boots across the tiled restroom and straight out the exit of the cozy cafe he was in. He didn't glance back, not even when there was a panicked shout of some other helpless male entering the bathroom to discover the disaster left behind. Gon told himself not to look for a reason, because to look back would to be regret what he did; and he didn't want to do that just yet.

 

There shouldn't be nothing to regret about doing this, should there?

 

Trudging heavy boots skidded across the pavement of the squished Masadora city streets. Gon picked a few times at the skin on his neck where insects crept and kept on walking in some random direction until he hit a more secluded area away from the hustle and bustle of people flooding through into the main section of town. He paused beside a giant display board; a map, and took a glance at the layout of the city.

 

It wasn't very complex. Mostly rows upon rows of buildings lined on every side; from department stores to information booths and most if not all the complexes sold or bartered Greed Island cards. There were very few places one could seek out non-carded items or items already transformed out of prior cards, so Gon couldn't afford to be picky when dealing with his needs.

 

That guy he sold the rings to was a lucky candidate and caught onto Gon's predicament at first glance – It secured him a drug dealer, per say, without having to seek one out.

 

Whoever took the rings was a Meth user himself; from the patches of crusty skin, the draped and tired eyes, the bald spots of tattered, stringy hair, and the ominous light of his reddened exposed arms. He looked as worse for wear as Gon did, but little did he honestly care, if it meant his needs would be sated.

 

Gon needed this; he reminded himself.  _ I have to do this. _

 

Fishing through the contents of his pocket, Gon heard a faint clink to confirm it was what he ordered and a small, relaxed smile flitted across his features. He visibly eased, the earlier tension in his posture finally going lax, and Gon let his eyes droop shut while he simply breathed the fresh air around him.

 

For a game, Greed Island certainly had a rich, lively atmosphere. For not being real, it certainly felt like it could be.

 

_ Better hurry before Bisky is done with her shopping. _ Gon glanced at the nearby public clock, notices its half-past 11 at night now, and guesses another twenty or so minutes until Biscuit is done with her usual rounds. She was a slow shopper; a  _ matriculate _ shopper she insisted, but slow nonetheless.  _ I won't have very long to finish and after that we'll be going back to the grove. I won't last that long without one. _

 

Gon promised to himself to make it quick.

 

To make sure the coast was clear, Gon momentarily pushed his senses outward within the limited radius he was physically capable of. There wasn't a trace of Biscuit's soft, careful  _ Nen _ aura anywhere nearby, nor her scent. There was nothing but waves of anxiety, of pent up frustration, of anger and depression; and Gon shut himself off from listening in on other people's problems. He had enough of his own, already.

 

It was easy to trace the pathways on the map and for Gon to find the best, most hidden spot in Masadora to do his business; slipping in a dark, sticky alleyway cut off from prying eyes and wandering glances. It was hidden in the back behind some far off abandoned building; Gon figured it had been a part of an in-game event at one point, and holed himself up in the one corner that wasn't littered in trash or in grime.

 

The alleyway was strangely reminiscent of the time he was trapped by Killua in one, after he had just managed to scavenge himself an armload of Meth after their fight and, of course, Killua was upset. Very upset.

 

He was still upset with him, Gon knew. Killua just refused to openly admit to it.

 

Gon scrunched down, all the way to his bottom, and sat facing the wall as he slid out the brown paper sack from his pocket. He dumped it on the ground, watching the long, pointed medicinal needles plop and clang against the unforgiving, rough cement. There was glass and trash everywhere, broken bottles and miscellaneous wrappers and Gon pushed aside everything to clear a space for himself. A few chunks of crystal fell out when he shook the bag a second time; large ones the size of his pinkie, alongside a few baggies loaded with pills, powders, and more. 

 

Even in Gon's current predicament, he couldn't help but grin ear to ear although the notion felt foreign on his lips; painful and forced and  _ not him _ .

 

It didn't matter. It'd all be okay soon.

 

“Needles.. needles.” he muttered to himself, grabbing at the other fallen things and putting them back into the bag. He handled the crystals especially with care, pausing on the last one to examine it closer-up, get a good whiff and breathe in its odorless scent with a low, vibrato moan. Pure, untreated Crystal Meth; that was this beautiful stalagmite he held in his hand. He slid the last one away and pocketed it back in its proper place before he picked up the lone needle left behind. 

 

The gray metal was long, thin, and slightly dirty with identifiable crusted matter. There was already a liquid inside, made prior as requested, and it was a thick, almost translucent white, and Gon turned it upside down a few times watching it move, but slowly. The liquid was thick, a paste-like quality, and Gon frowned at how viscous it seemed at first glance. Would it go in right? Would it inject properly without any strain? Gon knew it would hurt; had even been warned that it can hurt 'like a  _ bitch _ ' and that it was the hardest method for taking drugs.

 

But, it was also the best and fastest way to get that much needed rush, and Gon had been without for some time since Killua left. He needed something quick and it was exactly as he asked.

 

Gon just didn't expect it to be in such a form like this.

 

He set the needle back down, not jumping right into the idea of giving himself a shot of drugs until he thought about it more. It was tempting;  _ oh so tempting,  _ and Gon's hands shook at the idea of feeling that rush again, overpowering his veins and his body in its delectable warmth. But Gon wasn't confident in his ability to put a needle in his skin. He had no training; not like the nurses from the hospital when they gave him shots as a kid, or even Mito-san who could easily inject a needle in an emergency. She warned him never to play with things like those, for they were only to be used in a clean, well-facilitated hospital.

 

Needles weren't meant for the outside world otherwise.

 

“ _Oh, it'll be fine.” One girl waved off the first time Gon ever saw someone take an injection of Meth in their arms. His eyes widened at all the abscessing sores there; the festered boils and the scabs of popped wounds where she had stabbed multiple times in her haste to find a vein. Her arm looked like a bad case of the chicken pox; only much more gross and sickening. Above all, frighteningly scary. “Once you learn where your veins are, it's sooooo easy. Just stick it right in and wham! Instant buzz.”_

 

“ _I don't know.” Gon mumbled, sounding childish, but the blonde haired girl rolled her eyes and tousled her hair, the used needle waving in his face._

 

“ _Don't be such a baby, you big wimp. Try it.”_

 

_She shoved the needle towards him and Gon instantly shook his head, backing away. “I think I'll stick with my smokes, thanks.”_

 

“ _Whatever. Coward.” The needle clattered at his feet as she walked away and Gon stared at the fallen instrument for over an hour; locked in a trance, before he finally walked away._

 

_He needed another smoke to clear his thoughts, now._

 

_The second time he saw it occur, it had been completely accidental._

 

_He was so lost in his candle-lit high; a pretty haired boy riding on his lap, blue eyes bright and brilliant and familiar – That Gon never saw when the needle touched the boy's arms or the loud howl of pleasure he heard when those viscous fluids pushed through so quick, that it overflowed and dripped onto Gon's abdomen. The liquid actually burned, feeling like a hot steel iron, and he flinched in his frantically paced thrusting to lean up and rub at the spot around his belly button. There was a red mark there and Gon's brow furrowed in confusion at how a bit of liquid from a mere needle actually burned him._

 

“ _What are you doing?” He asked, chancing a peek up at the boy on his lap – The one who still, in the far cries of his mind, looked a lot like Killua – who was biting his lip in ecstasy. But it wasn't from the fact he was being penetrated, it was from the drugs flowing freely through his veins, most likely consuming him in a wildfire of feelings that Gon kind of wished he could experience too. Smoking; from what he had been told,was nothing compared to injecting the drug._

 

_ You could never quite reach that  _ _**high** _ _ without it, at least. _

 

_Even if it always felt off when it wasn't the one person he imagined; sitting there and bouncing up and down, head thrown back in a fit of lust as they cried themselves ragged and desperate and needy. It'd still be better then this, fucking some total stranger to sate his inner thoughts, his warring emotions clinging to the afterimage of a best friend he so wantonly wanted to screw flat into the floorboards and ravage as a total mess._

 

_Together. Yeah, he wanted to do it together._

 

_But Gon's crush was quiet and subdued, thanks to the curtain of Meth overshadowing his heart, and Gon rarely noticed his picks in people he's romped with; that they always resembled a certain white-haired boy with big sapphires for eyes._

 

“ _Want some?” The boy on top of him picked up in speed and Gon's ears hurt with the loud thump of his body falling off and on him in repeat. He held out another needle towards him and Gon shook his head. “Hmph. Coward.”_

 

_Gon shuddered at the comment but said nothing. This isn't what he needed right now. It was something else entirely yet it was nothing this boy could grant him. Their wet skin slapping made him cringe and Gon bit the inside of his mouth, arching back while trying to force the image of his best friend to be there, riding on top of him, moaning out his name as his seed spilled across his chest in thick ropes of white; a so much better white then the drugs that Gon choked down sometimes, thinking it made him happy._

 

_It didn't._

 

_But Meth made him think he was, anyway. And that was all Gon wanted;just never needed._

 

“What to do.. What do I do?” Gon rummaged through his pockets and the trembling in his hands made his movements uncoordinated and jerky. Slips of papers, wrappers, and a lighter fell out and Gon kept shuffling through, like there might be something he was missing, until his pocket was empty and he balled it into a fist there in the unfilled space. He frowned, glaring at the lighter and two good-sized rolls of smokes left behind, and snorted. 

 

_Just do it. Stop being a big baby._

 

“ _ **Coward.**_ _”_

 

Spinning images spiraled before his eyes, like colorful lights on a dance floor, and Gon swallowed on a thick ball of saliva in his throat. It tasted bad and he missed the better taste of pure white sweetness on his tongue. If he waited any longer, he swore he'd break.

 

But the needle to the side was staring at him, transfixed in its presence, and Gon shakily turned to reach for it instead, take it up and flip the needle so it pointed straight up. The tip glistened and he gulped, chancing another glance back at the smokes lying by his calf, calling, but its plea was drowned out in the stronger, more persistent cry of the needle instead.

 

_Try me. Just once._

 

“ _ **Don't be a coward.”**_

 

His arm moved forward and Gon flipped the needle back down, aiming it towards the space around the inside of his elbow joint. He had seen it many times before; the places where the nurses would push the sharp object in to draw blood, to give him a shot,  _ inject _ him in so many places. But this was the most common spot he could remember and Gon blearily tried to remember much more then just the spot, only his mind was fading and all these whispers and voices were merging in on his thoughts.

 

_**Try me.** _

 

_**Use me. Abuse me.** _

 

_**Take it.** _

 

_**Do it. Coward.** _

 

_**Wimp. Baby. Do it. Take it.** _

 

_**Push it. You need it. You need this.** _

 

_**You can't live without it.** _

 

_**You can't live without me.** _

 

“ _Hey, Gon?” Killua said once, his back to Gon where they lay, spent from exhausting all their energy in another act of rough, uncontrolled sex. He was curled in on himself, Gon's arms loosely wrapped around his chest and waist while he sniffed at the back of his albino friend's neck. It smelled faintly of vanilla and chocolate. “Can I ask you something?”_

 

“ _Sure.” Gon smirked, latching his lips onto the junction of Killua's shoulder and loving the shiver he received in response, the tiny gasp of irritation but adoration none the less._

 

“ _Is there something you can't live without?”_

 

_Taken aback by the blow to his personal life, Gon withdrew and cocked a brow even if he couldn't see Killua's face. All he saw was the sweaty, fluffed-up splay of silver hair in front of him, tickling at his nose. He gave off a low 'hmmmm' in thought then shrugged, nuzzling back into the hairline of his companion with a grin. “Not that I know of, why? Is there something Killua can't live without?”_

 

“ _Yes.” The answer came immediately and for some reason, Gon's heart skipped a beat. He wasn't sure if it was for a good or bad reason, however. “There's something I can't live without.”_

 

“ _What is it?”_

 

_Killua shook his head and Gon took it as confirmation that he wouldn't be finding out anytime soon, or at least now. He knew Killua well enough that he was too shy, embarrassed or otherwise, to admit to something so personal as that. So he shrugged it off, kissing at the crown of his hair with a small smile._

 

_He was so lost in the moment, that Killua's last, whispered words which came next were barely registered in his head, but he still heard them; and Gon felt the return of his restless heart beat pound like a drum against his rib cage._

 

_Painful and true._

 

“ _I.. I..'can't.. live without y.. you.. Gon.”_

 

“GON!”

 

Gon was snapped from his tiresome thoughts when he swung around, the shriek of his name smacking him straight across the face; in a metaphorical sense. Biscuit was standing there in the alleyway entrance, out of breath, eyes blown up like dinner plates, and a fear was there that Gon had never once witnessed in his  _ Nen _ -teacher before. It scared him and with his senses on overdrive, he could feel the anxiety there; the frustration and anger and sadness – All of it.

 

All of people's problems; all of  _ their  _ problems, returning full force when he fought so hard to ignore them, shut them away and slam the door shut, lock and key.

 

The drug was supposed to get rid of the problems, so why was there suddenly much more?

 

He blinked once he turned to face her, still sitting, and she gasped out loud. Confused, he peeked left to right to see what she was gasping out over, when her finger pointed down towards him, but lower. Following the path of her finger, Gon saw that the needle was already in place, fluid wiped clean with its head firmly lodged in the skin there. A thin trail of white, clear gunk ran down, tracing the path of one of his veins that was dilated and pushing through the tanned flesh there, and Gon bit his lip as a tear slid down his cheek unnoticed.

 

“Gon!” Biscuit said again, edging closer, but he shook his head and looked up once more tears started to slide down his face. One right after the other.

 

“Bisky.” Gon spoke up, a skip in his aching heart that wasn't there earlier. But it was slowly calming as the effects of the drug; of his returning **high** came back and all he wanted to do was smile, lose himself in the bliss of his fucked up reality.

 

A reality, where he saw Killua smiling; because Gon was the one thing he couldn't live without.

 

And to replace it, the faceless grin of  _ Meth _ was what Gon couldn't live without; and it devoured the image of his friend in one quick swoop. He kind of missed that image, really.

 

“Bisky, I think..” Words slurred as blackness kissed at the corners of his vision. Gon found himself floating. Fast. Into unconsciousness, and into the drug's clutches. He laughed.

 

“I think I have a problem.”

 

When the black finally did take over, Gon never even felt the ground touch him when he fell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Names like Chrissy, Tina, Ice and Chalk are slang terms for Meth. Every drug has to have a codename in order for people to sell it safely. I gave Gon a code -talk- for when he was dealing with drugs in Greed Island so not to arouse suspicion. Yep.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killua and Leorio briefly discuss plans on how to approach Gon's drug problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured out my entire plot and even the way I want this story to end so I am SO STOKED. I AM EXPLODING AND SCREAMING LIKE AN IDIOT.
> 
> But totally worth it. So expect me to get on a roll with this and start trucking cuz Ima hit hard (I CAME IN LIKE A WRECKING BALLLLLLL trolololol) and it's gonna be one wild ride (at least for me haha wow).
> 
> Thanks, like usual, for all this support and comments and WHATEVAAA. I am flipping out but it just makes me wanna write more and YESSSS. Feedback is always appreciated. Seriously. Drive me crazy.
> 
> THANK YOUUUUU /bow bow bow thud
> 
> Enjoy.

“ **Tell me what you know.”**

 

The beetle phone flashed 10:23 P.M.

 

Killua was sitting on the small bed spread the Kiriko's loaned him in their tiny little cabin on the hill. Since he was apparently too early to be dropped off at the Hunter Exam's testing site, he was forced to wait it out the next few days until he could leave. That meant sleeping in a shack full of magical creatures, who in a way, weren't as bad as Killua was expecting to be. He'd never encountered such a thing before in his lifetime and had been warned by his family to steer clear of them as they were devious and often times diabolical towards humans.

 

Racism existed even between cross species – Or so he was told. They didn't often take too kindly to strangers, let alone a strange human to boot.

 

But, alas, they were swayed by the Hunter Association and in another case – By Gon's natural charm. So when Killua greeted them, half-expecting a fight to brew, he was welcomed by open arms and long-nosed grins with inhumane, squeaky chuckles.

 

Killua wished his family could be this friendly and tight-knit. They were all so supportive of each other, working as a team. There were two parents and their two children. Together they performed a very convincing act to fool any would-be Hunters seeking out the testing site location. Only by out-witting at least one of them would they allow passage rights. Killua was fairly convinced that even he would need a few minutes to come to a conclusion on who exactly was who and what type of act they were pulling.

 

Gon was the prized winner who apparently can tell the parent's apart simply by their voices and faces alone.

 

Killua couldn't tell them apart even if his damned life depended on it.

 

After swapping tales and sharing stories (without shedding light of Gon's current drug predicament), Killua called it quits when the sun touched down and the full moon was out on display across a dazzling, starry night. He never realized how clear the sky was out over Dolle Harbor but he certainly appreciated it in comparison to the smoggy atmosphere looming overhead on Kukuroo Mountain.

 

Flipping over on his spare mattress, Killua illuminated his own face in the poor fluorescent lighting of his beetle phone and hummed a random, off-tune song. He thumbed through his enormous list of contacts (too lazy to ever delete anything) and found a certain meddlesome Doctor-to-Be listed and clicked on the displayed phone number. It took his phone a moment to catch a signal before it was ringing obnoxiously against Killua's ears as he laid on his side, eyes shut in the darkness of his cramped spare room.

 

_Ring, ring._

 

_Ring, ring-_

 

_Click._

 

“Hello?”

 

“Hey.”

 

Killua felt the way Leorio rolled his eyes at how lackluster and bored his own voice sounded but the training medic coughed and there was some shuffling on the other end until, “Took you long enough to call me. Do you know how late at night it is?”

 

“Oi, it's not that late and it took me a long time to catch up with _your_ friends. Don't blame it on me.”

 

“The Kiriko's?”

 

“Yeah. If that's what you call them, anyway.”

 

“They are pretty friendly, aren't they?”

 

The white-haired teen giggled against his pillow and a small smile flit over his pale features bathed by the bit of moonlight creeping in through the slit of the window curtain. “Yeah, they are. As soon as they found out I was Gon's friend they totally flipped out. They were all like a bunch of kids. It was funny.”

 

“It's good to know they're still so fond of him after all this time. Make sure to give them my regards.”

 

“I will.”

 

“When does the Hunter exam take place?” asked Leorio and Killua tapped his chin a few times, trying to remember when it exactly it was. After all the effort he did just to get here, he couldn't just skip out. He came to get his license and he most certainly wouldn't waste that expended time brawling with a fat, grimy ports' man for a ticket out of Greed Island, that's for sure.

 

And leaving Gon alone to do  _ god-knows-what  _ without Killua there to support him.

 

Or  _ control _ him, better put.

 

“I think it's in two days so I have a little bit of time to prepare beforehand. I found the Kiriko's early so it'll give me some leverage to do what you asked.”

 

“When you're done with the research notes, will you send me the links and the information you gathered via email?”

 

“I won't make any promises.” The Zoldyck boy grumbled, dreading how much more energy that would consume to do, let alone time. “It's enough I'm going to be trying to find out about this _shit_ in the first place.”

 

“Well, you're the one who's better than any at info-hunting. And you have free time to boot. I'm swamped with my studies as it is or I'd gladly be helping.” Leorio countered. Killua knew he was right. He'd spent many years of his childhood gathering information about his target's behind their backs – Whether via phone calls, books, internet, or straight from a person's _mouth_. If he was going to learn more about this drug called Methamphetamine; then he'd have to get his hands a little dirty in order to do so without too much risk. 

 

“Is that photo you sent me really the only thing Zepile got his hands on?”

 

“Unfortunately. Most of the news clipping he found was ruined and when he tried to look it up, there wasn't any trace of it left behind. Either it was so long ago that it'd been dropped from public eye or somebody else did something about it to make it disappear.”

 

“It could be possible to hack a system and delete it.” Killua thought out loud, thinking about how Milluki could easily remove a news feed from a website with simply a flick of his wrist. That would be a no-brainer for someone with the skills he possessed. He would know; he's used his fat brother's hacking prowess several times when in a bind, much to everyone's annoyance about playing things more cautiously and careful. Even Killua had a slip or two in his life – The tracks needed to be covered. “I wouldn't be surprised with how big the drug community probably is if Gon _really_ got that deep in the mists of it.”

 

“That makes sense.” Leorio sounded disappointed. Killua rose a brow in the darkness while his eyes remained firmly shut. “I just want all of this to be over and done with. This is insane.”

 

“Yeah.” Killua said, loathing the hurtful tone in his voice that he couldn't quite disguise the way he wanted to, to their old friend. _Yeah. This is insane._

 

“ _Hell_ , I wish Kurapika would answer his damned phone already and help out for a change. All he cares about is his stupid revenge schemes. We're supposed to be friends! Why the _fuck_ isn't he actually being one then? He's the one who said we were pals and could always rely on each other. Well, we need him now! _Shit_ , come on, Kurapika. What is your problem-?” 

 

Leorio started rambling to no one in particular about the former blonde member of their group of four and Killua found himself spacing out to the rough, edged voice of the doctor-in-training as he hummed the tune from earlier. It was faintly quiet, subdued and lazy, but oddly pleasant when it flowed in the back of his throat and out through his nose; sounding something like a dry-mouthed trumpet sound but more high-pitched. Coupled with Leorio's shark-bite sounding tone, it made for a dramatic yet hypnotic beat – Like the waves on the sea with their dramatic plunge and peaceful lulls in between.

 

Killua wasn't a singer nor was he that gifted to be graced with a beautiful voice, but he did like to sing or hum now and again when he had a private moment like this.

 

“Did I mention how much of a snobbish punk Kurapika can be sometimes, Killua? Yeah, I'll tell you alright. Like this one time where he-”

 

Well, at least  _ semi _ private, anyway.

 

As Leorio went on and on without respite, Killua began to doze to the thrum of the voice vibrating through the speakers and the vibration of his own throat. It felt nice, like his own weird personal massage, and Killua felt his thoughts drift to that very subject without realizing it.

 

“ _Hey Gon.”_

 

_Gon turned from his 500 set of push-ups for being just a tad too slow on the Biscuit's Gyo number competition to stare at the white-haired boy with curiosity._

 

“ _What's up, Killua?”_

 

“ _When you're done, let's give each other a massage.”_

 

“ _A massage?”_

 

“ _Yeah.” Killua laughed, cheeks coloring pink at the thought. It was only after pestering to see Biscuit's abilities that the secret_ _ **Cookie-chan**_ _Nen technique came to light and the idea had hit him in the first place. Killua never once received a proper massage in his life (being beat and whipped relentlessly hardly did anything to the strain or ache in muscles), so the curiosity had been nagging him ever since he saw it – And hated how pointless of a power it was also. “I figured since we've been training so hard lately, it'd be nice to treat ourselves to something good. What do you say?”_

 

“ _Sure! That sounds fun. I'll do it.” Gon returned to his 500 push-ups with more pumped up vigor then Killua liked seeing in his already-too exuberant friend. But he shrugged and sat to wait it out regardless._

 

_ When Gon eventually finished his push-ups (much to Killua's insistent nagging to just cheat and skip the rest because he wasn't  _ _**required** _ _ to finish them all and Gon; naturally, wanted to complete every single one anyway), Gon took a seat behind Killua and thumped his hands over the small shoulders with a squeak. _

 

“ _Is there any particular way you want me to do this?” asked Gon. Killua shook his head._

 

“ _Just do it however you like.”_

 

_Gon did; of course, do it however way he felt right. Which in turn, consisted of really painful squeezing, hard bruises lining where he pressed the indents of his fingers in too hard, and blunt scratch lines where Gon thought he was merely tickling the skin there; before Killua finally conceded with a frustrated cry and stood._

 

“ _Okay, okay! Stop already, Gon! You're doing more damage then good at this point, sheesh!”_

 

“ _Sorry, Killua.” Gon apologized, rubbing at his neck abashedly. “I've never given an actual massage to someone before so I wasn't sure what I was doing.”_

 

“ _Obviously.” Killua pouted, kind of looking forward to a good massage but his hopes were dashed and he called it quits before they got too big to burst like a bubble of resentment. What he didn't like, was seeing the pained look on his friend's face for feeling so pathetic as to not be instructed on how to give a proper massage._

 

“ _Killua doesn't have to return the favor then if I was really that bad.”_

 

“ _No, no. I'll do it.” He gestured as he sat back down for Gon to turn and he did. At least Killua didn't have to see the sad puppy dog face of Gon now, with his back to him. “I'll show you how it's properly done, idiot. That way when you do me next time, you won't be so damn rough.”_

 

“ _Eh heh, heh.”_

 

_ Killua began and he swore he worked magic on Gon's body, because the boy was a happy, squirming mess of himself the longer his thin, pale fingers rubbed each thick knot from his sore muscles. He applied little jolts of electricity now and again, enjoying the pleasurable groan of Gon's sweet voice in the air and the way he wiggled in place. The smack of his lips pressing together stirred a fire in Killua's groin and although he desperately wanted to act on it; he didn't, for the sake of comforting his friend for the time being. _

_  
Gon's body felt like it needed this, so Killua needed to do this also._

 

_For Gon._

 

“ _Hey, lift your arm a little.” Killua nudged at the inside of Gon's armpit and instantly, he flinched away from him with a startled yelp. Killua's mouth formed a perfect 'o' and Gon glanced over his shoulder, appearing apologetic again._

 

“ _Sorry, Killua. My arm's a little sore. Can we skip that part for now?”_

 

“ _Uhm, sure.” said Killua, slowly, but he glanced down at it anyway and as he lowered his hands more along the junction of Gon's shoulder-blades; he worked the fabric of his shirt enough to expose the ugly, blood-crusted lines there where obvious nails had scratched. Killua recognized the jagged appearance anywhere, knowing how to tell the difference between a cut with his claws and a cut with a blade any day. He had done it multiple times enough experimenting on his targets to remember what each cut mark looked like so it was easy for him to notice Gon's wounds without seeing too much of it._

 

_His hands dropped, brows canted forward towards the bridge of his nose and he hummed, tenderly touching around Gon's shoulder-blade a little longer and listening to the quiet hiss of the other boy in response._

 

“ _Killua, please stop touching my arm. It hurts.”_

 

“ _I'm not touching your arm though. I'm touching your shoulder.” countered Killua and Gon twisted in his seat to cross his arms albeit wincing in the process. Now Killua was dead-set on obtaining information if it was the last thing he did today._

 

“ _What did you do to your arm to make it hurt?”_

 

“ _I just did 500 push-ups and YOU ask why my arm hurts?”_

 

“ _You normally do 1000 push-ups and sit-ups when you lose, Gon. That's a stupid excuse.”_

 

“ _Well, maybe I'm just a little tired okay?”_

 

“ _You're never tired from doing push-ups. You're the one who insists on doing MORE when you shouldn't be.”_

 

“ _I strained my muscle a little, Killua! Get off my back already.”_

 

“ _We all know that's total bull-shit-” Killua reached out, grabbing hold of Gon's left arm in a vice-grip and he watched the tan-skinned boy visibly jerk and react and he knew he was screwed. It happened so quickly that even Killua's assassin training didn't prepare him for the fist that came his way and smashed into his mouth, catapulting him across the dirt a few feet away with Gon's arm no longer in his grasp. He sputtered, spitting out a mouthful of rock and dirt and blue eyes narrowed over in Gon's direction but fell the second he saw the hurt look in those amber eyes, making his chest hurt worse then the blossoming bruise on his mouth now. “Gon-?”_

 

“ _Leave me alone, please.” Gon cradled his arm, other hand cradled in the nook of his armpit where Killua caught a glimpse of even more red,_ _ **blood**_ _, dripping down and staining his white tank-top. As he reached up, in a notion to make Gon stay; he was gone before he could say a word and his hand dropped back down, defeated and useless._

 

_Like he was, pretty much._

 

“ _I'm sorry, Gon-”_

 

“I'm sorry, Killua.”

 

Snapping from his daze, a loud cough pulled him back to reality and his eyes shot open; temporarily blinding him in the darkness of the room that he actually hissed. Leorio's scratchy voice was still on the line, coughing again to gain his attention.

 

“Hey, I said I was sorry, punk. Are you even listening to me-?”

 

“Yeah.” Killua interrupted, pressing the back of his wrist against both of his straining eyes and wanting to keep the dark at bay, keep that last bit of light there for himself. For now. “Yeah, sorry. I'm listening, Leorio.”

 

“Good, because it's time you get some sleep. You've got a busy day tomorrow and so do I. After I'm done with my finals test I'll be giving Kurapika a piece of my mind alright. Then maybe if I can get him to help, we can figure something out to save Gon.”

 

“Yeah.” Killua was repeating himself but he couldn't find a reason to care, “Yeah, you do that. I'll find out about that incident in the morning, so, you do that.”

 

“Are you sure you're okay, man?” There was a hint of worry in Leorio's tone that wasn't there before and Killua chewed on his bottom lip, rolling onto his back as his face felt moist from unexplained wetness. “You don't sound very good.”

 

“I'm fine.”

 

A tear rolled down, escaping through the slightest crack that his wrist couldn't close over, to keep his eyes hidden in the blackness and Killua smiled; feeling so fake in the process. He knew Leorio wouldn't buy it, but he had to say it anyway, just to get it off his chest.

 

“I'm fine, Leorio.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killua thinks he walks Gon's path of mistakes more then Gon himself does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains a minor OC in this chapter and the next. Just ties into the plot. The OC is based off a friend (lmao you will hate me I'm making you a troll). I'm not a big fan of OC's unless necessary so hope that doesn't bother anybody. 
> 
> Gonna get deep in the midst's of drugs and their ties. Just warning, yah know.
> 
> Enjoy. Feedback, like always, makes me happy and I appreciate it none the less. If not, just read. As long as somebody is reading, it's all that counts.

“ **Tell me what you've gone and done now.”**

 

**[ 0 results found ]**

 

Killua stared dumbly at the screen for the past five minutes before he finally let himself sigh out the breath he forgot he was withholding this entire time. Another lost cause; it was the fifth try in finding out any lead on this _'Wife held at knife point by young boy'_ and still no use. He _really_ wanted to avoid contacting Milluki but his options were running thinner by the second and it was already half past noon, too. If Killua spent all day on this assignment, he'd never get enough extra time to do all the other things he had to do before the Hunter Exam began. And _god-knows_ how long that could take him to finish.

 

He needed to find out the information over this incident. Now.

 

Pulling out the printed copy of the photo, Killua scanned over the woman's face for the seventeenth time since this morning; scowling in earnest. To him, she wasn't even that pretty really – What with short, wavy black hair and blue eyes; a tiny stature with a frail figure that looked like it could break from the slightest breeze. She was ready to blow over and fall apart because she was so thin and gaunt. Her chest and bosom were lacking and there wasn't a hint of womanly curve there, and she certainly played the helpless role alright, deducing from her appearance taken in this photo.

 

There was real fear in her eyes, at least.

 

As there was also real anger in Gon's eyes, too.

 

 _Once I find out who this woman is, I can speak to her directly if I can't find any information about her on the web concerning the incident._ Killua concluded to himself, arms crossing with the crumpled up photo stuffed in his arm pit. It was all he left to go by and since he was doing this solo, Killua had wiggle room to play dirty if need be.

 

Even if that meant getting his pig-of-a brother involved, in the end.

 

_I'll try one more at least before I risk it._

 

Pulling his chair back up the internet cafe's spare computer, he dropped the photo next to the mouse and clicked himself back into the browser and typed something different.

 

**Police reports and incidents involving Methamphetamine.**

 

Results flooded through like wildfire, some old and some new and he picked through the first several links and scanned over them. But there was _so_ many reports, interviews, and information that Killua's head was spinning from just a few. Only a couple minutes passed and the pounding in the back of his skull was excruciating. He clicked out of them, feeling overwhelmed in the flood that hit his system and shook his white locks all over, ruffling at the mane of hair and taking in a deep, ragged breath to calm himself down. There was goosebumps on his clammy skin, sweat sticking his bangs to his brow, and Killua shivered.

 

_Man arrested for being charged with rape, murder, and violent acts against several hundred people while under the influence of Meth._

 

_Couple found smuggling Meth packets across the borderline._

 

_One woman and her three kids dead in a Meth lab explosion._

 

_A teenage girl arrested for stealing and committing violent acts against innocent bystanders on the pretense of getting Meth._

 

_Several underage teenagers arrested for abusing Meth at an illegal party, including use of alcohol and other illegal substances as well._

 

_Two boys stand trial for murder and rape of three teenage girls under the influence of Meth._

 

_Ten found dead from overdosing on Meth. Their corpses lay in an abandoned factory and are now being identified._

 

_Meth. Meth. Meth._

 

It was all about Meth.

 

And as Killua read through the articles; watched the photos and the headlines flash before his eyes, he imagined Gon caught in all those possible scenarios.

 

_Gon arrested for rape, murder, and violence on innocent bystanders under Meth influence._

 

_Gon smuggling Meth._

 

_Gon dying in a Meth lab explosion._

 

_Gon arrested for stealing and assaulting to obtain Meth._

 

_Gon abusing Meth and alcohol at an illegal, underage party._

 

_Gon held for trial of rape and murder of teenage girls while on Meth._

 

_Gon overdosing on Meth._

 

Killua felt sick. Sick and horrified at the same time.

 

“Ulp.” Killua choked on incoming bile, slapping a hand over his mouth and the dizzying thoughts slammed into him, again and again. He could smell the sweet chemicals in his nostrils and there wasn't a hint of the drug around. Killua peeled his shirt up, sniffing at it, testing it for any hint of Gon on him after he had just recently bathed three times to rid of all the dirt and grime build up. But the smell was haunting him, because it was there; and Killua barely flung himself to his feet and rushed into the nearest latrine to vomit into the only available toilet there was. Many people gave him odd looks and quickly avoided confrontation. He registered the slam of the door as people filed out and left while he was hurling into the empty space his head hardly fit into.

 

It hurt; the bile burning in the pit of his chest, up and out of his throat, and his entire mouth felt like it was stuffed with hot embers and coals. It was on fire and his tongue would probably swell but Killua could focus on nothing but that horrible odor and the sickening twist in his stomach, wrenching free from the horrors of all the possible scenarios Gon could be in – At any given time really.

 

Gon was _so_ unpredictable at this point that it exceeded beyond his expectations; his limits. With drugs involved, Gon could end up in any number of problems and without Killua to be there, to aid him from this endeavor, well, he could just as well find Gon's name showing up on that site the next day, _the next second_ , in big bold letters flashing straight across the top of the computer screen.

 

**Another teenage boy found dead because of Meth use.**

 

The thought alone wrenched another few heaves and the splash of his earlier breakfast flickered in front of him, chunky and dark mixed by the toilet water. He paled at the sight; more than normal, and pushed himself back so hard he flung onto the floor where the door should have been closed, but it wasn't. And in his haste to throw up he had forgot to shut the god damn door, so he rolled and doubled over on the floor, vomiting there as well from the abrupt spin he forced himself into unknowingly. His world was spiraling before his sight, light dancing there, and Killua yanked himself to the toilet before he retched anymore onto the floor and had more to clean up in the long run.

 

It lasted about a minute, but it felt like forever in his mind. Like hours upon endless hours had passed and the Hunter Exam was long since gone and so was Gon himself. Both were done and Killua was alone with nothing left but hollow emptiness; a void in the depths of his soul just as his stomach was when he dry-heaved the last few gulps of rancid air on his tongue before sagging to the floor with a sob. His head was pounding, worse then a migraine, and he wrapped both his arms around his head in a dumb, comforting gesture that was the least bit sating.

 

_It hurts._

 

It hurt. Killua bit on the inside of his mouth, appreciating the metallic tang in comparison to the sour taste leftover from purging his food contents out of his gut. Shakily, his hand wiggled its way into the spare pack he brought along and fished out a small canteen of alcohol; sloshing the bronze liquid around a few times before taking a quick swig when he popped the cap off with his thumb alone.

 

_I haven't had one of these in a long time._

 

The cool, bitter liquid splashed down his throat and chilled the burning there. Killua sighed with relief, pulling himself to a sit on the floor and letting his head slide against the plastic wall of the bathroom stall. He took a few more careful sips, waiting for the ache in his head to calm and keep him from hurling any bit of air left in his stomach, before he threw the emptied container to the side and hiccuped. His mind thought back to the news articles and thankfully, because he was drowning in a buzz of alcohol, he was able to think more clearly about what he's seen.

 

Methamphetamine was one powerful drug to push so many people into such wrongful acts. There were several spots highlighting how most people were hitting something called a ' _Tweak_ ' or were on a drug binge, which is what drove them to feats of insanity and relapse. That was when they were most likely to do something illegal, in a fit of desperation and need; even if it meant committing an unforgivable act of violence.

 

Stealing. Harassment. Threatening. Rape. Murder.

 

Suicide. And death.

 

If Killua was correct, Gon had been on the drugs for quite awhile. He'd first need to research the steps in which a person influenced by Meth would act, so he could plausibly decipher which stage Gon may be in.

 

And prevent the rest that follows, from ever happening.

 

_I have a lead._

 

Sitting upright, Killua's wobbly hand pressed down on the lever several times, waiting until the toilet flushed for awhile and was back in the clear again to get back to his feet. Although his legs were like jelly and his mind was still in a haze, he had enough energy to devote himself to standing. He dragged his shoes forward, careful to stay away from the splattered remains of his own bodily mess, and slumped over the sink. Some splashes of water over his face later and much rinsing of his mouth out; was Killua finally able to attend to the disaster on the floor. It took almost half a the dispenser of paper towels and all his sheer willpower not to add more to his growing disgust, but he did it.

 

Once it was spotless; even if the nasty smell lingered behind, Killua marched out feeling a little bit more renewed and energized, albeit empty and stomach churning with the lack of its fill there. Killua popped open another tiny bottle of booze he kept hidden in his backpack; all the stash he had collected from Greed Island, and started drinking from it as he walked down the bustling streets of Zaban City, a few miles out of Dolle Harbor's reach.

 

If he was going to get a snag on this woman; the crowded, well-populated city would be his best bet within reach. He wasn't in Yorkshin where the likelihood of encountering this woman was far and few between, so his chance was at least to stick to the cities where information ran plenty as did the people.

 

There was bound to be someone who could feasibly lead him in the right direction.

 

Killua walked some blocks down across the sidewalks, weaving in and out of huge throngs of random bystanders, until he paused at a four-way intersection and hummed against the crisp opening of his bottle of whiskey in tow. His free hand flicked on his phone; only one eye scanning through his list of contacts in consideration of dialing his brother Milluki to ask for help, when something else caught in his opposite line of vision that made him stop and not press that _Call_ button.

 

There was the woman; the exact depicted version of her from the photograph, standing across from him on the other end of the intersection. She had a phone pressed in the space of her shoulder and ear, mouth moving as she talked, and grocery bags in hand. But after studying that photograph ten times over and then some, he had her features and face down to a tee. It was her.

 

Killua's mouth dropped, as did the alcoholic beverage he held in his hand and he paid little attention to the loud clatter of glass crashing to the street below. She moved, not noticing the shatter sound of his shock, and moved in the other direction he was headed, fading into the background of the crowd that jammed forward in unison.

 

“Wait-!”

 

He tried to say, in vain, and was bounding across the street blindly in an effort to catch up; phone clutched tightly against his palm. Cars screeched, frantic not to hit him and Killua dodged, left and right with inhuman speed, around the few that lacked good-enough braking to stop in their effort not to crash. He made it to the opposite end and shoved into the tiny spaces of bodies jostling around, crying out again even if his voice was drowned in the bustle of everyday life around him. He still had to try.

 

“Wait- Hey lady! Wait!”

 

Killua rammed through the last leg of bodies much to strings of protests and curses flung his way, in order to bust out of the mass and break free back into air. There was a space of emptiness there, where very few walked, and Killua fought to regain his breath as he panted; sapphire eyes darting every which way to spot the woman from earlier.

 

_If I lose her, it'll all be over._

 

Luckily, she was now on the other end of the street, still walking in the opposite direction, and Killua placed a hand to his chest in relief. _I didn't lose her yet._ He was still in the clear. She wasn't that far out of range now.

 

His heart back flipped against his rib cage and Killua sunk momentarily to his knees, staring at the phone in his hand with Milluki's number visible on the screen, high-lighted and the little question mark of ' _Call?_ ' was there in huge bold letters.

 

Killua felt the slightest bit of a smile on his lips and promptly, and without hesitation pressed ' _No_ '.

* * *

  _Knock. Knock._

 

Killua tailed the woman all the way to what appeared to be her house. _Doesn't she live in Yorkshin?_ He blinked, looking at the numbers '405' displayed there, wanting to chuckle himself how it was the same number Gon bore during the Hunter Exams. It was quite a coincidence.

 

But she had went inside; pulled out a ring of keys and everything, and entered on her own accord with nobody there to greet her. So, it must be her house – Or a relative. Somebody she was acquaintances with. It didn't matter, she hadn't left yet, so it was Killua's opportunity to finally start questioning and get some answers.

 

He waited ten minutes to start knocking and he was still waiting for another five until the woman eventually opened the door, her left brow raised in concern. She wore a fluffy baby blue apron over her everyday clothes and Killua figured she was either cooking or cleaning. He held back a laugh at how tacky it looked. This was the woman Gon held at knife-point and threatened to kill – It was time for him to get serious.

 

_Focus, Killua._

 

“Can I help you, young man?”

 

“Yeah. You can actually.” Killua perked, stepping forward and the woman held up her brawny fist in warning. He stopped moving, sensing the flash of fear awaken in her eyes and also something else; much more dangerous and prone to attack if need be. “I want to ask you a few questions.”

 

“Questions about?”

 

“Uhm, well..”

 

“If it's not that important, then you can go before I call the cops or stay and get arrested for all I care.”

 

She moved to shut the door on him and Killua's hand flew out, slapping over the hard wood with a wince. The woman's eyes widened and out of reflex, her fist decked Killua straight across the cheek as his mouth opened to protest. He fell sideways and hit the porch railing in the front lawn and sagged down onto his bottom, blinking through the glassy fog in his vision then rubbed his cheek. There was a big lump there and a bruise, too, and he spat out a wad of blood to the side and laughed.

 

“Wow, nice punch.”

 

The woman's navy eyes narrowed but her fist did not lower, kept upright and shaking as Killua got back to his feet still nursing his wound with the back of his arm and giggling insanely.

 

Why was he giggling again? Oh, right.

 

“You know, you punch a lot like a friend of mine.”

 

_Gon._

 

Both her brows raised.

 

“He's pretty stupid, actually. He's got this ridiculous hair-style where his hair sticks up straight like an actual porcupine. He's got huge ass eyes that sometimes shine like the sun when the light hits them but they look so goofy when he's staring at you in general that you just want to laugh forever. His skin is so tan and dark brown it kind of looks like chocolate. He's kind of short, well shorter then me, and a little scrawny but he's got huge arm muscles and so much energy that he'd run a mule to death. He goes on and on doing any kind of physical exercise he can do but when it comes to mental things, he's totally a dumb ass.”

 

The woman stepped towards him but Killua ignored her in favor to keep talking. It was all he could find himself to do for some reason. The only thing.

 

Had he just snapped?

 

“He has the tackiest clothes ever. They're _always_ green and when we try to pick him out new clothes they're still _green_. He wears these itty bitty little shorts and this funny-looking coat that actually kind of looks good on him. Then he had these giant lace-up boots that, of course, _are green_. He's pretty fast sometimes when he wants to be and can probably out run me longer then I could since he has so much energy and stamina it's insane. Generally, he's a pretty enthusiastic kid who grew up in the outdoors, spending his time in the forests and around animals so I kind of think he's like some wild child or a monkey or something. Maybe related to Tarzan?”

 

“Uh-?”

 

“Gon's pretty talented and naturally gifted, also. When we competed together to become Hunters he was picked _first_ before me of having a higher chance of becoming a successful Hunter. I had been training all my life and all he's ever done is run through the forest like some manic ape and they still picked _him._ Isn't that funny? Gon is just so.. So Gon. Everybody likes him. Everybody is drawn to him. He's got this weird magnetic force that attracts people and just wants to make you _be_ with him, in anyway you can. I can't help but be drawn to him, too, sometimes. Like I could live my life forever by his side, content and happy and never need anybody else. Isn't that insane?”

 

“Excuse me-”

 

“He's my first friend. Probably my _only_ friend anyway that I've ever had in my entire life. We were so close. He came and saved me from my family when I was all fucked up. And then we traveled around together and we went to fight and earn cash at Heaven's Arena.” Killua smiled, to himself more then anything. “That was so much fun. We met our _Nen_ teacher there and another weirdo kid too that was pretty bad ass when he wanted to be. And I watched Gon beat the shit out of that psycho-pervert Hisoka. It was great. Then we went to visit his Aunt Mito and I got to meet her and his grandma. We played and fooled around for a month relaxing and it was then that I realized I had a crush on my best friend.”

 

 _Why the hell am I telling all of this to a total stranger?_ Killua wondered, wishing he was able to stop talking. Yet the words kept on coming, flooding his system, and all he did was spew them out as they came, piled up and tumbled down from his lips unbidden and relentless.

 

It felt good. To talk for a change. Even if nobody was listening to him. He just needed to talk.

 

And that punch was apparently all he needed to crack that unbreakable shell.

 

“I didn't want to tell him, though, about my feelings because if I did; I was afraid he'd reject me or something and leave. So I kept it in and when we went to Yorkshin; I found myself finding more and more reasons to love him. We joined up with our friends – Well Leorio at least since Kurapika apparently was too focused on his own work to care much. And then we were hunting for ways to raise money to bid on the Greed Island game that Gon wanted so badly. It had clues to find his snobby ass father so I was more then happy to help him if it meant he was happy. But then we got caught up in the web of the Phantom Troupe. Kurapika was hunting them down too so we kind of got mixed in together and fought with them for some time.”

 

“We also met this cool, punk guy named Zepile along the way who helped us earn money and find a way into participating in Greed Island. He had the freakiest eyebrows though that looked like a giant mustache. Kind of like that Satotz guy from the exam who also had a mustache for a mouth. It was so funny. But he was cool and helped us out greatly.”

 

“Anyway, after we did some bad ass things, Kurapika kicked the leader's butt, and Gon was awesome like usual standing up to those guys, we were getting ready to go to the auction one night when Gon and I stopped because we smelled something weird.”

 

The memories were crashing in now, like tidal waves only radioactive and ready to explode, and the words continued to fall into him with no sign of stopping. Killua felt like he was drowning; but his mouth kept moving regardless and he choked on a breath of air, eyes watering from the strain that made him talk now, when he so desperately thought it would be best to stop. It no longer felt pleasant to speak and here he was, unable to quit.

 

_What the hell is wrong with me?_

 

“Gon, he- He smelled drugs and the idiot ass hole was as curious as ever. He _had_ to go find out what that smell was and I didn't stop him. Can you believe that? My best friend. I didn't stop my best friend when he went forward and they offered him drugs. The friendly bastard that he was; curious and interested in everything, willingly tried it. They gave it to him and just went and _fucking_ tried it and what did I do? I didn't do anything. I stood there like a complete idiot and did nothing.”

 

Killua's voice dropped to a whisper as the woman lowered to a crouch in front of him, the fist she used to hit him now relaxed out into just a simple hand, reaching out tentatively. She was frowning and Killua was shaking his head, curling in on himself and away from her – Away from everything that plagued him in his mind, his heart, and his soul.

 

Guilt was, in fact, his own monster.

 

And maybe, so was Gon.

 

“ _I didn't do anything._ ”

 

His earlier thoughts; screaming echoes in the far cries of his consciousness, returned and Killua hugged his knees to his chest as he screamed involuntarily into them, soundless.

 

_**It's all my fault.** _

 

_I did this to him._

 

_I let him do it._

 

_It was me._

 

Killua was about ready to blow like a bomb; throw it all away, when suddenly-

 

“Stop!”

 

A hand slapped him, hard, in the face and Killua whirled to the side from the sheer force of it; that he threw out his arm to catch himself from falling over as his blue eyes blew out of proportion and stared at his perpetrator – The wavy haired dark woman.

 

“Calm down.” It was an order and Killua swallowed, sitting upright again and staring with a stupid, dumbstruck look on his face. “Just, stop. Okay? Stop.”

 

He didn't say anything, only stared, and she rubbed her temples between her forefinger and thumb with a sigh.

 

“Let's just- just go inside already. I get it. Whatever it is you're talking about, I get it.”

 

She stood up, leaving Killua to sit there, and walked to the door and held it open for him, gesturing inside.

 

_It's my fault._

 

His head hummed but Killua's heart said otherwise, thumping in his chest with its own song; a soft, remorseful one and hopeful nonetheless.

 

_But I can fix this, can't I?_

 

“Come on in. Let's talk.”

 

He pushed himself up and paused, feet heavier then cement. It took him a moment to recollect his thoughts and then nod resolutely, following her inside as asked when the weights from his feet disappeared. Just not the weights from his heart. Because, he wasn't going to let his emotions get the better of him. Not this time. And whether they lingered or not, Killua wanted to do something for a change.

 

Cover up for the mistake he did from the start.

 

**This is my only lead.**

 

**Just take it.**


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killua takes in his first taste of Gon's reality with newly awakened clarity.
> 
> And this time, he's more reassured then ever.
> 
> [Warning: Graphic Description, Minor Violence, Weapons, Information on Meth and Minor Language; etc.]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loathed this chapter. (and it's one of the longest yet!) It was very hard to write and describe and pretty much contains the brunt of my explanation on what is Meth and such. I'm not thrilled with it so I'm posting it without touching up much before I flip out about it haha and make it worse.
> 
> So sorry if it's not as good as I'd like but I hope it gets the message across as things move full-steam ahead into the climaxing plot (lololol) If you think this is bad, it's gonna be worse.
> 
> Again, fair warning to everyone. It's a pretty graphic chappy following the OC and such but this is the last you'll see of her haha since I just can't do OC's very well I think. Whateva.
> 
> Thanks!
> 
> /end rant and effectively shot as the chapter title imposes. GET IT OVER WITTTTHHHHHHHHH.
> 
> Enjoy.

“ **A gun would do the trick. Get it over with.”**

 

Killua eased himself into the only lounge chair within the modern-styled living room as the woman from earlier – Nicknamed  _Angel_ – set down two small cups of freshly brewed tea. He took a big whiff of it, inhaling the sweet, earthy aroma of spring leaf and hummed appreciatively. It did smell much better then all the liquor piled in his bag. He could at least stand to give it a shot. And it did remind him faintly of Gon; the pine leaves and the autumn tang of the forest boy lingering on his breath, and his heart.

 

_Gon._

 

“You were following me earlier.” Angel spoke up, slipping onto the dark, navy blue couch across him. The table separated the space between the two and she leaned forward, elbows braced on the glass with a scowl on her face that wasn't there earlier. Killua's eye twitched at how brash sounding her voice was in person compared to how (sort-of) womanly she seemed in the photo. Total difference indeed. “What's your deal, kid?”

 

“You sure jump into conversation, lady. And we only just met.” He laughed, licking the rim of his cup with too much enthusiasm.

 

She rolled her eyes, words dripping with sarcasm. “Wow, what a change in demeanor from the earlier  _you_ I witnessed, ready to bawl his eyes off like a big baby. Yeah. I am pretty friendly, aren't I? Just get to the point already. Why were you following me?”  


“I need to ask you a few things.”

 

“Okay.”

 

The tension was at ease and no longer as thick as what a steak knife could cut into, so Killua relaxed his shoulders. If he could make this into the most casual talk he was able to; then this would be a piece of cake. The hassle of trying to explain too much (especially with his prior emotional-induced rambling) for a person he's only ever going to speak to once, and once only, would be bothersome.

 

On top of that, Killua was running low on time already.

 

“But- What few things would these happen to be?”

 

“About my friend.”

 

“You mean that Gon Freecs kid?”

 

Alarm bells went off and Killua shot upright in his chair, glaring incredulously. “How the hell do you know him? I didn't tell you his last name when I slipped up back there.”

 

“That's because I knew him before I even met you. And also, you haven't even told me _your_ name, boy. So spill.”

 

“It's Killua, thanks.” _She's rude for almost dying._

 

“Your welcome.”

 

Killua coughed on his own spit and Angel sat back, leaning her minuscule amount of weight on the couch. Her arms folded over her chest and teal eyes closed with a sigh. “Look, _Killua_ , I don't know what you want from me, but I had nothing to do with it. It was all your friend's doing and nothing more.”

 

“ _It?”_

 

Her brow rose but she did not look at him. “You don't have a clue what I'm talking about, do you?”

 

“No, but I'd appreciate it if you could _inform_ me then.” She giggled when he hissed out his words, trying to be as rude as she was. But he was losing and it was silly to watch him fumble and try. “What is this _it_ you are talking about?”

 

“I'm talking about that big Meth raid down town that your previous _friend_ was a part of. That's how I got caught up in the mess, because I just so happened to be walking near by and _bang_ , I'm stuck in a situation I shouldn't be in. And then there was-”

 

She stopped, hearing Killua's weird, dry-heaving sounds escape his throat and she rose; very well prepared to grab a bucket if necessary, but he waved her off and she sunk back to her seat, eyes narrowed and alert. “What's wrong with you, kid?”

 

“It's nothing.”

 

_When the hell did I become so weak to have all these stinking panic attacks?_

 

Killua flips on a switch in his head; the switch that _defied_ all-pain, all shred of his anxiety in its entirety and instantly his face lit up in a smile. An incredibly fake smile that pressed too hard on the upper parts of his cheek bones and made his jaw ache uncomfortably around the edges. It hurt, but Killua wasn't going to let his destructive emotions make the better of him. The earlier flashbacks of imagining Gon in all those terrible scenarios high-lighted in police articles was hauntingly real and as much as he didn't want to believe some may actually be true; he couldn't just deny the inevitable.

 

The only thing he continued to deny was it happening, much too soon before he could stop it.

 

_Am I running out of time?_

 

“What raid?” He spoke up as the woman's face was still set in a firm line, concerned but calculative and waiting on him to speak. She nodded.

 

“I told you. It was some big Meth raid down town in Yorkshin. I was visiting on the pretense of business work and when I was walking back to my hotel that evening, I got caught up in that giant piss poor excuse for an attack on some _Meth lab_.”

 

“And Gon was there?”

 

“Did you _not_ see the photo of me being held hostage by him or did you get the photo-shopped version of me with huge tits and a giant ass, looking awfully pretty for the camera and ready to fuck?”

 

_Holy shit-_

 

“No, I-”

 

“Of course he was there. He was the one who was in league with the person orchestrating it, _genius_. Some friend you have.”

 

Killua bit down on his bottom lip, tasting copper, and grimaced; a glare piercing his crystalline eyes with  _that_ look. A look to kill. But she didn't recoil at it, no, by all means was she even more smug and smirking with confidence and Killua wanted nothing more then to rip off her mouth and break it to pieces.

 

“What?” She asked as he shook his head, reminding himself that this was his _only_ lead and he shouldn't kill them. “Did I hit a nerve?”

 

Just not yet at least.

 

“Aren't you treating Gon a little harsh?”

 

“Well the kid _did_ try to kill me. I would think I have some right to my rude behavior, don't you think?”

 

_No._

 

“I guess.”

 

Angel's cheek twitched, tongue pushing to make it bulge out slightly and she brushed aside bangs to display her own set of blue eyes, much darker and bolder then Killua's set of translucent ones. “Look, Killua. I'm not trying to be rude, but I'm not really all that fond of what happened there. So don't expect me to act all nice and friendly about it, either.”

 

“Can you tell me what happened?”

 

“I don't see why not.” She shrugged a shoulder, resting all her weight into the cushion against her back with a finger pressed to her lips. She hummed quietly and shut her eyes as Killua drew in a breath on instinct and listened. “Here I go, then. You better be listening because I'm not going to repeat myself.”

 

“Sure.”

 

Angel nodded resolutely and began.

 

“ _Yes. Yes. No.” Angel had sighed against her phone for the tenth time that night to her boss. It was a moist night, the air nothing but sticky and slimy on her skin and she was thankful for the loose garments she wore that kept the humidity from feeding off her skin like a leech. “I told you, it will be done tomorrow. Yes, I'm serious.” There was some unintelligible chattering on the other end and then, “No. Okay. Fine, I'll do it. Talk to you later, sir.”_

 

_She cut the call with a thankful smile and shoved her phone back into her pocket, hoping it didn't have to come out from there anytime soon that day._

 

“ _Where the heck am I?” Stopping suddenly, Angel realized then that was when she had wandered into unfamiliar territory – A part of Yorkshin she didn't recognize. This was no where near her hotel's location, that was certain. “Well, crap.”_

 

“ _I'm never getting back to eat, am I?” She drawled to herself, clasping both hands on the straps of her purse and trudged forward because it was all she could do in her predicament. It appeared to be a forbidden part of town; where the streets were dark, the streets damp, and the buildings ransacked beyond repair. There were homeless strays abound, lurking in the cracks and crevices just black enough to hide their presences and their images. Like shadowy blots in an already darkened world; lonely and broken with no where to go. Angel pitied them; sharing the same sentiment in a past best forgotten, but she couldn't afford to stay and amass in the guilt they all wore like dishonorable badges._

 

_**Better not linger here too long.** _

 

_She slung the purse firmly over her shoulder, patted at the inside of it where her protection lay safe and waiting, and moved forward with more purpose in her strides. There were eyes on her, following her all the way until she weaved herself a stupid path straight into a dead-end alleyway with but a small, barely-standing shack sat, beckoning with its foreboding after-glow. There was a burn pit off to the side, dead vegetation lining the outer ring of the porch, and several patches of stained soil trailing near the back._

 

_The strong, rancid chemical odor radiating from the house like a noxious cloud; however, was the worst of it all._

 

“ _Where the hell is this place-?” Angel blinked, once, and suddenly the cool steel blade of a knife pressed to the underside of her jaw, right across her neck._

 

“ _Don't move.”_

 

_Her sapphire eyes darted to the briefest flash of light coming from inside the shack's boarded-in window nearby then fell on the blurry outline of the person aside her, so much shorter and inky in the pitch-dark space they were confined in._

 

_That Angel was being held at knife point in._

 

“ _What-” She found her voice, forgoing the fact her use of voice forced the blade to draw blood from her skin, and her hands squeezed until they turned blue around the strap of her purse, “-are you doing?”_

 

“ _You're now a hostage.”_

 

“ _A hostage. I see. And why am I your hostage?”_

 

“ _Be quiet.” The knife pushed harder onto her throat, ripping a pained gasp from her and the scent of her own blood filled her nostrils, probably oozing thick and hot now. It tickled at her skin as it slid down into the opening of her button-down blouse and she shivered. “And don't move.”_

 

“ _Kind of hard to do with you pressing a knife to my throat.”_

 

_BANG._

 

_A gun shot went off from behind and even the person holding her at death's end jumped in place, like herself, as her feet wobbled and her heart back flipped strongly in her chest; a gasp bubbling in her throat past the gush of blood there. She froze, instantly in place, and the knife started wavering a little with the others lack of confidence after the random shot. If she had just a few seconds; with her black-belt karate skills, she could temporarily incapacitate this person and escape._

 

_But the approaching footsteps and another round of two gunshots made her think otherwise; wait out and save her skin for at least a little bit longer, if possible._

 

“ _Nice job, Gon. You got the perfect candidate.”_

 

“ _You think so?” 'Gon' as called, beamed, and Angel recognized the childish quality to it and the unmistakable lack of age and experience there right off the bat. “She was just walking all by herself and seemed like the perfect target. So I really did pick good?”_

 

_**I'm being held hostage by a mere kid. What luck.** _

 

“ _Of course. She'll do perfectly.” The other voice started; seeming more deeper then Gon's and a little rough around the edges, masked by a hoarse, grating tone that gave them a scratchy throat sound. The knife was pulled away and all-too-soon was a thick, coarse rope snagging her by across the mouth, shoved forcefully into the space of her mouth and teeth and tied so roughly against the back of her head that the pressure made her jaw ache. She tightened her grip around the tough texture there and made a move to pry it off when her hands were wrenched back by a much stronger force and rope was tied there, too, and effectively trapping her into yet another bad situation._

 

_**I have the shittiest luck.** _

 

“ _Move.” Angel was shoved and she tripped over her own feet, stumbling and almost falling to the pavement below when a boy rushed forward and caught her with hands that shouldn't have been that careful for helping assist in her capture. It was a boy no more then in his early teens when her sight flashed to his image; spiked onyx air aimed impossibly straight and high, bronzed skin like polished brass, hazelnut eyes glowing like pools of rich honey, and a facial expression that spoke immeasurable levels of softness. Of kindness._

 

_ And flashes of anger there, too; claws and talons flailing out in the background that made her recoil and shrink back away from this random act of humility when it was hiding  **this** behind it. _

 

_It was scary._

 

“ _Gon, get up. We're moving.”_

 

“ _Hai!”_

 

_The teen beside her got to his feet before she did and nodded in an overly enthusiastic way and grinned, ear-to-ear as Angel bit down on the rope, frowning._

 

_**What a miserable excuse for a kid.** _

 

_Following the mass of bodies that appeared behind her – At least ten or more of them ranging in age, gender, and size from big and busty to tall, lanky and limbs that looked stripped of all their meat and faces gaunt and hollow, lifeless – marched up towards the shack ahead she had stumbled onto, her in tow held by gun-point now instead of knife. The cool metallic barrel pressed to her temple. It actually felt nice on her pounding, feverish head but she knew better then to lead into it; make her look like she wanted this._

 

_Because she most definitely did not._

 

_The foremost teenager; some scrawny boy that looked rather hawkish with a hooked nose and unkempt dark hair that hadn't seen a shower in decades, rapped his fist loudly against the door and shouted. “Hey, old man. Open up before we bust it down and kill your fucking ass.”_

 

_There was some muffling and a lock clicking but nothing more._

 

“ _Fucking ass wipe, that fucktard.” The leader hissed, eyes narrowing and gestured his right hand out without even looking. The gun pushing on her head clicked as her eyes widened in realization; the revolver snapping as it readied itself to fire. There was some quiet whispers and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Gon swallowing so hard his Adam's apple bobbed repeatedly up and down. She did not move. “Open up now or I'll kill this bitch and blow her fucking brains all over your door step. I'm sure the cops would have a field day listening to your stupid ass excuse for that.”_

 

_Somebody else flipped open a phone and started dialing something. They held it up on speaker phone when it began to ring before the operator's voice for 911 sounded, feminine and concerned._

 

“ _Hello, 911. What's your emergency?”_

 

_The door creaked open instantaneously as did the lead teen's face split in a smirk. The voice cut off on speaker phone when the call ended and the elderly man that appeared; wrinkled and tired with patches of white like a halo on his head, sighed forlornly at the crew waiting at his doorstep._

 

“ _I told you, kid. I don't have any left.”_

 

“ _I don't fucking care, old shit. You're lying so stop hiding it already and fess up. Where is it?” The dark-haired youth said, raising a gun to eye level and grinned. Several others also pulled up hand guns – **How the hell did kids get their hands on guns holy shit** – and all aimed them in the man's direction, clicking off the safety so it was ready to fire. Angel spotted one even in Gon's hands; the kid with the sunshine appearance cast behind an ugly little cloud, but he was simply holding it at his side and nothing more with a face set in a thin line of torn emotion._

 

_Grunting, the old man shook his head and waved his hands for emphasis. “I'm not telling you, so shoot me already if you're going to act that way. But then you'll kill off your only good drug supplier.”_

 

“ _Tck.” The leader scoffed and didn't hesitate to fire point blank range, blasting a lead bullet straight through the old man's left arm. Crimson liquid sprayed out from the wound and several of those standing in the forefront turned their heads, faces painted red in the old man's blood. He cried out, shrieking madly, and dropped to his knees to clutch wildly at his wound to stop the bleeding. A few people inhaled sharply; all their breaths mixing in one, and Angel saw Gon shudder, turn his scarlet painted face sideways and avoid staring too long. Even she, too, couldn't stare without wanting to throw up._

 

_**This is horrible.** _

 

_Using the barrel of his gun, the lead boy knocked over the old man sobbing in agony, and the small group filed inside without sparing a glance back. Angel's eyes darted to the elderly man's side and muffled noises behind her gag, but he ignored her and she was shoved onward to keep walking with two guns pressed coldly to her back. Guilt ate at her insides like a blood-thirsty beast and tears stung beneath her lashes, wishing she could cry as if it would be a way to resolve this conflict she was thrust into._

 

_But it would do no good for her to cry, so she sucked it up and trailed with the herd through bleak, barely furnished rooms until they kicked open a door that lead to a set of pitch-black stairs and went down. Three members; the one in the front, middle, and rear all lit up lighters to illuminate the darkness and proceeded down single-file. Angel figured she was somewhere in the middle, squished between a frail-looking girl with ashen skin and expression laced with malevolent poison and Gon; still quiet and subdued with his semi-automatic pistol held tightly to his chest._

 

_It must have been at least what felt like an hour but long, drawn-out minutes instead of listening to the sounds of hushed, rugged breathing and hard foot falls echoing around the tight corridor. Somebody coughed and a loud bang spit light in their faces when the door was bust open by the forefront kid's foot, temporarily blinding them as they stepped into the basement. Angel shied away, squinting her eyes enough not to shut them like most others, and she gasped at the sight that awaited her when she stepped into it._

 

_**A Clandestine chemistry lab.** (An illegal drug laboratory she's read about in books.) _

 

_There was clutter as far as the eye can see. Tables and shelves and things filled up every inch of the room's space capacity and there were all sorts of miscellaneous objects strung about haphazardly that she dreaded the people who had to clean up this mess. There was packages from prescription pills scattered on tables, spilled to the floor, and empty containers from various liquids like antifreeze, paint thinner, starter fluids for cars, Episom salt, and acetone – The list of things she recognized was endless. Containers upon containers ranging from all types; gas and stove, camping equipment, automobile fluid containers, glass containers and soda bottles filled with chemical deposits, etc. There were bottles attached together with duct tape and rubber tubing. Coolers and cold containers were piled high with baggies and chemical items and more. Cat little boxes sat in corners filled with old residue and white powdery gunk caked just about everything in the room; from the walls to the objects, to the two lone people in the room wearing masks and rags with wide panic-stricken eyes glowing with fear when the teenage group approached, guns aimed in the air._

 

_**This is so wrong!** _

 

_Hardly able to breathe past the toxic fumes predating the tiny, cramped space; Angel gagged and tore her gaze away. There was some blurred shouting from the two young women; possibly pleading for their lives, and she missed the gunshots that hopefully ended their days painlessly and quick. The teenagers who brought her in, all rushed out, scattering as they began grabbing things left and right to stuff in the many backpacks and trash bags they carried on them. She peeked from the corner of her vision, seeing Gon not too far picking through an ice barrel and dropping big bags of white powder into his backpack; his face blotched with dried red blood and amber eyes dark, vacant. Inhuman._

 

_There were a million thoughts racing through her head and although now left alone and with the perfect means to an escape while they were distracted; she couldn't take that first step to freedom. Because to break free and run for it would give them every right to shoot down the no-longer-needed hostage of theirs. Now with the elder man injured and his two women helpers (or hostages too, who knows) out for the count, what was stopping them from killing her, too?_

 

_As the childish mind was consumed in the need to sate its desire for drugs and addiction, she was forgotten. But who knew how much given time that left her in the background, just an afterthought ready to be extinguished?”_

 

_Angel regretted ever stepping foot in Yorkshin on the premise of appeasing her asshole of a boss._

 

_She inched back, eyes darting side to side wondering if she could possibly cut the binds on her arms loose, when the teenagers suddenly rushed forward at some alarming shouts echoing from upstairs. Since the building was so loosely built and falling apart; their voices were easy to hear, easy to read. There was more teenagers approaching. Lots of them._

 

“ _Go, go, go!”_

 

“ _It's them!”_

 

“ _They're coming!”_

 

“ _Run for it!”_

 

“ _Shit! Everybody get out!”_

 

_There was so many words flying around her head, that Angel was helpless to not just fall into them. She was grabbed by a bronzed hand, tugged along as the thunder-some foot steps of the group around begun stampeding up the steps, all with guns and knives and weapons in their hands and bags slung to the capacity with drugs over their shoulders._

 

_It was then she felt like those portrayed in the movies of the soldiers going into battle; into war, as they were jostled in the herd's direction with hearts heavy in nervous preparation and anxiety the anchor that kept their feet traveling on the correct path. They wielded their only savior, and if that savior were to fail them, then they would surely face death soon._

 

_She was shoved in the mass ascending, guided by the spiky-haired blur of Gon from earlier holding onto her wrist in a death-vice. It took them much less time to reach the top then it did the bottom; running at such a fast pace, that she tripped over the last step once it was breached. It was then her body was falling over and slammed sideways by the recoil of Gon and another teenage girl's body flying into her from a bullet to the head._

 

_The resulting collision caused the three bodies to shatter the shelving unit next to the kitchen sink and for half of the contents in Gon's backpack to spill, including a few other personal items. A card flashed in her vision and a quick slash across her wrists found her arm binds released and her hands flying out towards the card laying there before she picked it up automatically at the idea of using it as a weapon to cut the rope from her mouth._

 

_She was about to start chopping into it when Gon got to his feet, the click of his gun loud enough for even her to hear in this orchestrated madness around._

 

“ _You better run, miss. Things around here are going to get bad soon. Run, while you still can.” Gon said above her where he stood, gun and knife in either hand. There was a bad look in his eyes; his face black and ugly underneath the shadows showing there. Nearby, she saw teenagers fighting left and right, bullets flying and knife blades clashing as people were screaming at the top of their lungs in one giant muddy wave of sound. Outside seemed much worse; there was almost non-stop gun shots firing off one right after the other and she could only imagine how the hell this chaos even came to be in the first place._

 

_She muffled something behind her mouth rope and glanced up, Gon frowning down at her._

 

_ There was a sunken look to his appearance in the same way the angry beast from earlier blossomed  **that** feeling in her belly; in a knowing gesture that made her cringe and shrink back with fear like a scared animal ready for its impeding demise. _

 

_But it never did come and Gon never bared his fangs to her, simply shutting his eyes and drawing in a breath as a battlefield of blood shed spread like a contagion. It was sucking up the small scab of what should have been a home yet was nothing more then but a food source for the starved and the wicked – The drug addicts. And Angel shut her eyes too, letting the tears fall unbidden, free like she wished they were. Because freedom was nothing like how she thought it used to be, not after this and surely freedom was nothing what they expected to be._

 

_Not anymore._

 

_Angel muffled unintelligibly behind her gag, blue eyes darting up to voice her own thoughts there when Gon took off abruptly, his knife flaying through another boy's arm and cutting the muscle so cleanly that the blood flew in one direction. It splattered into her face, the hot bubbling liquid stinging her eyes, her nose, her very skin. She did not blink. The boy cried out in pain, clutching his wound, and fired two rounds from his revolver. The first bullet missed and the second clipped Gon in the shoulder, eliciting a hurting hiss, before his knife came shooting forward and hacked across the others throat._

 

_He dropped dead in front of her, eyes wide and frozen in time and Angel screamed mutely into the rope around her mouth, thankful for its presence._

 

“ _Sorry.” Gon didn't look back at her, blade dripping red and flipping his gun around in the other. “But this is how it's got to go. Survival of the fittest right?”_

 

_Gold locked eyes with sapphires and Angel's heart dropped in her chest, pitiful._

 

_Gon was partly smiling, half his blood-soaked face twisted up and contorted; driven into madness, as the other side frowned, tears falling from one eye and the muscles in his jaw twitched painfully so._

 

_**No. This can't be real. This can't be.** _

 

_As much as she wanted to scream out, change everything, she couldn't and Gon waved himself off with a laugh, diving head first into the war raging outside._

 

_Angel sat there helpless, defeated and an emotional wreck in no less than a few hours, her sight never leaving that door he left open. It presented her with the perfect view of what was happening outside; young and once-innocent adolescent teenagers shooting and slaughtering each other. A turf-war over territory; or in this case fighting over drug suppliers. Her eyes flashed to the card in hand, its glossy image directing her downward to its soft, calm appearance wanting to soothe her bitter tasting thoughts; her acid-drowned heart._

 

_**Gon Freecs. Hunter License. No Star-Hunter.** _

 

_She clutched the tiny piece of plastic to her chest as her eyes shut and even though she was screaming, all she could hear was the sounds of gun shots._

 

_Gun shots and death._

 

_**This isn't real.** _

 

_**This is Hell.** _

 

“....”

 

Killua stared, slack-jawed and speechless in Angel's general direction. She shrugged a shoulder, face an emotionless mask, and she leaned her head back to rest its weight on the couch cushion so she wouldn't have to keep staring at his stupid expression the entire time.

 

“What's your problem? There's my story. I'm done.”

 

“...”

 

“That's such a nice answer. You know, maybe I should kick you out-”

 

“No.” Killua interrupted, holding up his hand. Trying to recollect his thoughts was hard. After hearing that entire tale; he wasn't sure how to think or feel honestly. “Just give me a second. It's a lot to take in.”

 

Angel shrugged again but said nothing as Killua sighed, closing his eyes and head bowed in concentration.

 

_Gon was in a drug gang._

 

_Gon was involved in a hostage situation._

 

_Gon was a part of a Meth raid._

 

_Gon was a killer._

 

Killua clutched at the sides of his skull, slowly bending forward until his forehead brushed the tips of his knees and stiffened like a statue, cold and hard; lifeless again.

 

**Flip on the switch.**

 

_What else did he do? How many people has he killed? Who else has he hurt and attacked and-?_

 

He didn't want to think about it. There wasn't enough contents in his stomach to throw up but it was rumbling like it was ready for a second go and he was not. He did  _ not need to think about it. _

 

“Tell me about Meth.”

 

“What-?”

 

“Tell me about this drug, Meth.” Killua repeated, keeping himself curled up while sitting. Angel blinked. He did not move. “Please.” The snowy haired teenager added, as an extra precaution. He needed desperately for something to distract him. Anything. _Please._

 

“What do you want to know about it?”

 

“Everything. Just tell me everything you know.”

 

“Fine.” Angel sighed, voice agitated and vibrating against the back of her mouth. It was enough accounting her tale in such excruciating detail but constantly keep reminding her of the very drug that ruined her career; well, she wanted to avoid it at all costs. Her boss fired her after that little incident and since then she'd been living quietly out of hands reach. And out of her spouse's reach, too, just to be safe. Separated and alone. It was a troublesome life Meth had caused and the nightmares still plagued her like an incurable disease.

 

Angel wasn't sure she'd ever be free and sane again, since that incident.

 

And here was this mysterious boy, showing up on her doorstep and nagging her to retell this story; this nightmare of hers, memory to word. She didn't want to do it, per say, but there was just something about him that reminded her of that Gon kid – how he was forced into a situation he didn't want to be in, but was doing it simply on the pretense of survival and nothing else. Although, she could see the way this kid was being affected – She knew the way one's voice wavered and the quiet, lurking pain withdrawn behind all those layers of denial like a second shell – so she figured it'd be best to comply.

 

More so for her sake, then his probably.

 

Besides, it'd help her, too, to keep herself distracted from the horrors of life, albeit temporary.

 

Clearing her throat, Angel recited off the top of her head all that she had studied, rehearsed, and dreaded in that order. “Meth or Methamphetamine is a synthetic version of adrenaline, a naturally occurring hormone the body produces in tiny increments when under stress. But unlike an adrenaline rush which doesn't last long, Meth can last in a person's body for six to eight hours. It's got code-names like  _ Tina, crystal, crank, tweak, speed, ice, Chrissy, chalk,  _ etc. Technically, it's been sold as a prescription drug known as Desoxyn for the treatment of ADHD and obesity.”

 

Killua nodded to show he was listening but did not budge.

 

“However, it's more often cooked and made in makeshift labs to be sold illegally as a powder or rock for people to use. They snort, smoke, eat, dissolve and inject Meth. The rock form is actually a crystal which is what you get the name Crystal Meth coined from and is smoked. Meth binges are known as 'tweaking'. When tweaked, addicts can stay awake for days or even weeks at a time. People who go on these binges either end up being arrested or going to the hospital because of psychotic behavior, since the body is no longer able to function and crashes. People who take it say that they're instantly hooked, because the drug is that potent and dangerous.”

 

“A lot of times, Meth is called the 'club drug' or 'sex drug' because it acts as a stimulant or an aphrodisiac. It makes the person feel euphoric, intense, and powerful and drives them to do obsessive behaviors which often results in them having a lot of sex for instance. It can let them keep having sex for days nonstop without an orgasm, and keep them from sleeping, eating, or coming down from the high for two to three days. It's even better if the user has Viagra or Cialis on the side, too. Or so I heard.”

 

“Like most drugs, Meth makes the user's brain release large amounts of Dopamine which is associated with feelings of pleasure. So when you first start using the drug, you feel really good. But the more you use it and the more you ingest, the more you start to lose your sense of pleasure and the receptors in your brain that produce Dopamine stop working. In a condition known as Anhedonia, Meth addicts eventually lose their ability to feel pleasure. Since they can't feel good anymore, this leads to depression and hopelessness until eventually it can grow into paranoia and aggression. They end up becoming psychotic eventually and the rest is self-explanatory.”

 

Angel picked at her teeth, hating how clinical she was getting.  **_Why the hell did I research this so much again?_ ** Killua was still not moving, silent, and she sighed. She kind of wished he was talking or something so she wouldn't feel so alone herself discussing this. Discussing the  _ drug _ again.

 

“In some instances, people who abuse Meth develop problems like 'Meth mouth' where they get severe tooth decay and tooth loss because the drug makes their mouth very dry and grind their teeth. Meth also dries out their skin which makes the person think they've got 'bugs crawling under their skin' so they constantly scratch and itch at themselves in a behavior known as 'picking'. You can tell a lot of someone who's used it a lot by the self-inflicted wounds and infections on their bodies. Otherwise, convulsions, stroke, heart attack, organ damage, malnutrition, psychosis, etc; can be common health problems, too.”

 

“Otherwise, the drug is very dangerous. It's so addictive that it can take years for a person to ever return to a semi-normal life again, but they most definitely won't ever be the same way they were before. I've read and heard of the horror stories of the people who've tried and attempted Meth rehab only to slip and fall because the dependence is so strong that they can't fight it. I think it's more psychological then anything.” She tapped her head, lulling her skull around lazily in emphasis. “It messes with their head, makes them have hallucinations and crazy, psychotic thoughts. It makes people violent and insane for the drug and they feel like they can't live without it. It's like that with every drug.”

 

“Methamphetamine is it's own living Hell.”

 

Killua swallowed loudly and Angel flinched at the weird retching sound he made, covering his mouth, before he swung upright and was smiling, big and proudly so her stomach twisted with nausea. There was so much falseness behind that smile, that if she felt strong enough she would have just went over there and smacked it right off of there. She couldn't stand looking at it too long, or how wrong it felt in general, and she looked to the side biting on her lip.

 

“That's all I got. There. That better be enough so help me-”

 

“Thanks.”

 

_What?_

 

She looked back up and Killua wasn't smiling anymore. He wasn't even frowning but his face was placid, neutral, and almost cold.

 

It felt dead.

 

“Thanks.” Killua said twice, rising to his feet and clutching a hand to his chest, the other shoved in his pocket and it was clearly shaking in its hiding spot. He was holding back something and for that, Angel was kind of glad. She was on the verge of breaking herself and to see another kid; like earlier, shatter – She wasn't sure if she'd make it out this time, alive and unscathed. “Thank you, for telling me your story. For telling me about the drug. For everything, really.”

 

“Your welcome, kid.” Angel scoffed, shrinking back in her seat a moment with hands lax behind her head. She paused, took in a breath, then stood herself. “Before you go, I have something for you.”

 

Killua cocked his head to the side and she felt his sapphire eyes follow her footsteps like a hawk all the way to the nearby cabinet. She tinkered with the first drawer, reached in through the mess there, and pulled out two things. As he drew closer, she turned and set a small hand gun and plastic card in his awaiting hands and Killua gasped, blue eyes bigger then dinner plates.

 

_Gon's Hunter license and gun._

 

“That was your friend's. He dropped his card the first time he rescued me and the second time, when things were quieting down, he gave me that gun to use for protection when I was making my escape through the smaller crowd still leftover fighting. I think you should take them, since you knew him so well.”

 

“ _Take this.” Gon had said, placing his gun into her hands where Angel sat, curled up in the furthest corner, out of sight. Outside, the gunshots had finally stopped, but there were still shrill screams and shrieks of people in pain, people dying, and they wouldn't stop anytime soon she bet. “It'll protect you.”_

 

“ _Why are you doing this?” Angel choked out past the blood in her throat, from the deep gash in her throat still bleeding faintly but not as bad now as it was before. Her hand was pressed to it, keeping her bodily fluids from draining her dry, leaving her an empty cask and ready for burial. “Why?”_

 

“ _Because.” Gon smiled and she hated that smile, also, “You should live.”_

 

“ _Why..?”_

 

“ _Live.” He was pulling away and she wanted to reach out, desperately she did, but her arms were frozen, cradling the gun to her chest anyway like a lifeline. Her only one left, because without it she'd have no strength otherwise to keep on going without it. “Live and don't give up.”_

 

“ _Why!” Angel shouted out, coughing when the strain clawed at her insides and she wanted to keep screaming but lost the ability to do so. She felt so weak, so helpless, and defeated. Surrounded by death and decay and blood; like a real life horror movie on this was real life. This was reality, a side of the coin she never wanted to see rear it's ugly head when flipped over. The card on the table she revealed, regretting ever choosing it out of so many other options. All of these were times she loathed; times she wished she could take back with every fiber of her being and never look back upon._

 

_But here they were and she wasn't going anywhere without them._

 

“ _Because. We can't stay on the losing end forever, you know? And it's not really fair for a person who wasn't really even involved with something to be forced to fight for survival. It's only fair you get a chance, too.”_

 

“ _That doesn't make any sense-”_

 

“ _Does anything ever make sense?” Gon laughed, rubbing at his neck and took off as his knife flashed, full on display, leaving Angel to cry out quietly behind him, gun in hand._

 

_And no longer so lost as she thought she was._

 

“Take it.” Angel nudged Killua's hands closed so he was forced to grasp the card and the gun against his palms; hoping against hope that maybe all her feelings, her memories, and her desires would transfer between them. There was a plea in her voice, a quiet, struggling need to weep, but she kept strong for their sake. For the sake of the only person, that despite the odds, still shed some light on her blacked-out void of a life. Perhaps then, this kid could be that other boy's light, in his time of need?

 

Every fire needs just a little bit of assistance to spark, in truth.

 

She hoped it would rekindle that tiny flame she witnessed; giving the hope she was granted and spreading it around, and just maybe, things would be okay again.

 

“Take it, please. And live. _Live_ Killua. Help Gon. Help your friend. By whatever means, _please_. He helped me. So please, help him. He needs you.”

 

Killua didn't look up, only nodding and a strangled giggle left him. Angel frowned.

 

_Gon needs me._

 

He still didn't look up when his next words came out, more so a promise to himself then anybody really. 

 

He did, promise, after all.

 

And Gon, still, was his friend, wasn't he?

 

_Maybe there is hope then._

 

“Okay.” He said. “I will.”

 

Angel smiled, this time for real, and so did Killua in turn.

 

“I'll help Gon.”


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Biscuit and Leorio juggle the weight of many because luck doesn't plan to be on their side this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the long absence. I went to visit my best friend for a mini vacation and both times between flight transfers I got stranded in a foreign airport alone twice because of flight cancellations. My luck pretty much sucked and I lost a lot of time and energy that's for sure. But my trip went great and now I'm back in action (hopefully). It's gonna be a bit of a slow start getting back into the groove because I didn't write as much as I thought I would, but I hope I will catch up soon. Again, I apologize for the inconvenience and lack of updates. I'm back now so I hope nobody gave up on me too soon haha.
> 
> Thanks to all those still sticking around.
> 
> NOW LIGHTS CAMERA ACTION the drama starts now suckas. (My writing got a bit rusty oops and excuse the oocness this time around.)
> 
> Enjoy.

 

“ **You're better off.”**

 

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

 

Biscuit stared numbly at the bleeping machine fastened next to the very hospital bed that Gon rested so peacefully in. The beeping sound was a mockery of the peaceful display of crisp white sheets laying folded and gentle over a frail, doll-like corpse. Or at least, that was how Gon appeared to her as he was fast asleep, tucked beneath the sheets that when she stared too long at; she saw flashes of what people looked like when declared freshly deceased and covered by that familiar white veil up to their flash-frozen faces.

 

It was haunting to thing about and Biscuit bet she'd have nightmares imagining her students cradled beneath a pure layer of white that was wrongly just for ever trying to represent death.

 

Wasn't something so light supposed to represent life? Or was it simply just the best cover-up, to lure something into that sense of falseness and hope believing that maybe, just maybe, it was all an act?

 

They weren't coming back so what was the point?

 

Biscuit prayed to never see the gruesome image happen to her two trainees, at least not until she was long since hidden behind it and her ghost was left to mourn in silence.

 

“Gon.” She whispered meekly, to herself. It was lucky they had hospitals in Greed Island because she wasn't sure what she'd do otherwise to get him back to the real world. The second he had hit that cold pavement was the second she was at his side, carting him off to god-knows-where if it meant getting him to safety. It terrified her, to see a boy once so sunny and vagrant, fall to the gray slice of reality. Especially Gon; the pinnacle of brilliance in her eyes, a polished diamond gemstone ready to be molded into perfect form, pristine like porcelain glass.

 

Now he looked broken, rusted, rough around the edges and sharp and even Biscuit hesitated getting near enough to touch it for even looking made her eyes hurt. There was too many jagged points now and she didn't know where to begin, where to proceed with recovering her precious stone without damaging herself beyond repair in the process. He used to be a sunny grove and now he was nothing but a soured wasteland.

 

_I've got to do something._

 

Picking up his backpack on the ground, she set it on her lap and stared. Biscuit placed on her gloves, careful to keep the contamination from spreading, and firstly plucked the needle from the side pouch. The one she found on the ground that day; the one Gon had used to inject himself with something unidentifiable and murky white.

 

Drugs. She knew them the split instant she got within sight of it.

 

Biscuit had been around the block enough to know what drugs were. She'd as well tried some herself, thinking they'd solve some long-time problems of hers only to find more issues arise because of it. Drugs didn't solve anything and they certainly didn't help, not even temporary on her behalf.

 

They made things worse and to find them in the clutches of one of her students on the pretense that it was helping him – Made her world crumble around the creases.

 

She pinched the bridge of the needle's opening and glared at it with sickening clarity, bringing it to her nose a few inches away to sniff. Chemicals; like aromatic bleach, burned her nostrils and she cringed, pulling it from her face with a grimace. It was certainly sweet smelling but the omnipotent allure that assaulted her senses was what made her reluctant to tread further then that. She set the needle on the nightstand and picked through the things in the side pockets, finding baggies filled with various kinds of contents like powder, pills, and crystalline shaped stones.

 

Biscuit spread them out on the bed side where Gon's prone form didn't occupy and started organizing the things one by one as they were brought out. All personal belongings were placed furthest away and the drugs took over the forefront, arranged by type in front of her.

 

There wasn't very much, surprising. She expected him to be loaded; especially if he was very far into addiction. But this was Greed Island and she guessed it might be difficult to safely and easily find a drug source, let alone do it under the guise of keeping her and Killua out of the loop.

 

First, there were four more needles filled with the now-grayish liquid. After wrapping them up in some paper towels, she pushed them into an empty bag to dispose of later, discreetly, without leaving a trace especially while in the hospital. As if she wanted to see another patient or person be caught with them.

 

Second, she bundled up all the bags full of crystals and put them into one big bag, set off to the side. That was the raw and purest form of what could only be Crystal Methamphetamine. She recognized it right off the bat; one of the only drugs she'd ever crossed paths with that she was actually afraid of. All the horror stories she heard passed around by her friends, her comrades, her _old_ students and own mentors; were nightmares in themselves.

 

And that one person she had met; a Meth addict, was one of the scariest encounters she'd ever experienced.

 

Knowing Gon picked Meth of all things as his drug of choice, was going to be yet another nightmare to keep her awake for days; again. Biscuit dreaded the future that awaited him.

 

Lastly, were two piles of various kinds of pills; mostly in tablet form, and then a large portion of white powder placed in many baggies. With the more dangerous substances put away, it left her with the simpler methods that she was more knowledgeable and familiar with. Although they were no more dangerous then their purer counterparts, at least with these she knew what she was dealing with.

 

_How you use and ingest powder and pills._

 

_The rate in which you start taking them to how much you take until you overdose._

 

_The side effects and eventual progression of health problems over time._

 

She researched enough to know that Meth was like a short ladder. The first step was instant addiction and the few steps it took to full-on dependence towards feasible death was as short-lived as the time it took to transcend there.

 

How far did that leave Gon, then?

 

As the door creaked open behind her abruptly, she clambered around to grab all the leftover drugs on the bed and shoved them into her purse right when the young nurse came waltzing up from behind, clipboard in hand with no amount of righteous privacy on her ignorant mind.

 

“And how is our little Gon-kun doing today?” She asked instantly, so sweetly, that her tiny little childish voice grated Biscuit's nerves. She kept her shaking fist down, pressed into her purse to keep it from looking too suspicious. This woman was annoying, nosy, _and_ bossy. If only they could so kindly trade nurses, then she'd be much happier. But this was a game so they were stuck with whatever they got. “Is he doing any better this morning?”

 

“Yes.” Biscuit answered immediately, “I've been watching him since I got here. Sound asleep like a baby.”

 

“Has he eaten his breakfast yet?”

 

Biscuit's pinkish eyes glanced over at the tray still sitting, cold and stale and fully filled; left untouched. “No. But he hasn't woken up yet so I'll make sure he does as soon as he's able.”

 

“Make sure that you do.”

 

The nurse turned to leave and Biscuit hissed under her breath like a feral cat, fingers twitching over her purse handle. Oh how badly she wanted to flip the lady off; or worse if she could legally get away with it.

 

_Sarcastic witch-_

 

“And also,” The nurse paused in the doorway, mouth etched in a frown, “Keep an eye on him. Since he's one of those druggies, who knows what trouble he can get into while here. I don't want to see the other patients get caught up in terrible affairs. Are we clear?”

 

There was no avoiding allowing the nurses and doctors to know Gon was a drug abuser, because that was exactly the reason why she had brought him in. The lab tests confirmed it, so it wasn't like she could hide the truth from them. It didn't mean they had the right to rub it in their faces about it, however.

 

“Crystal, _ma'am_.”

 

The door shut and Biscuit's _Nen_ -powered fist smashed through the plate of old food and straight down the center of the stand, crushing it to itty bitty pieces. She was not cleaning that up, not when that rude snob talked down on her like she was some kid. She most certainly was _not_ but the intention of looking this youthful was to be attractive yet intelligent at the same time. Like a young adult; possibly an older teenager.

 

_Not. A. Kid._

 

Gon didn't stir surprisingly at the clatter and bang of noise she made so Biscuit sighed and sagged back into her chair, pads of her fingertips keeping her head upright and propped on the bed.

 

“Oh, Gon...”

 

_Ring, ring._

 

Her phone buzzed to life to some sappy pop song and she reached into her purse to get it out. It was flashing both the time of 8:37 A.M and _Unknown Number_ over and over in repeat.

 

“Since when did phones work in a game?” She queried out loud, standing up to take the call. Her phone had yet to have reception since she entered and suddenly now it worked? It was a strange coincidence. Not wanting to wake Gon after all the noise she made earlier, Biscuit stepped outside while carefully shutting the door behind her to flip open the little cell phone and answer the call.

 

“Hello, can I help you?”

 

It was a masculine voice, estimated roughly in his mid-thirties plausibly, that spoke up on the other end; Biscuit raising a curious brow in response. Since when did her number wind up in the hands of a completely unknown man?

 

“Yeah- Uh- Sorry, but, do you happen to be someone named Biscuit Krueger?”

 

“That's me.” Her lips pursed, sinking into the nearby plush bench beside Gon's patient room door, phone balanced between her shoulder and mouth with a hum. “Can I ask who this is?”

 

“Yeah, yeah.” The man laughed, sounding nervous. But he cleared his throat, coughing a few more times, then said, “My name's Leorio Paladiknight. I want to talk to you about Gon and Killua.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Hey, Zepile.” Leorio said, somewhere around 6 A.M. in the morning while still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He yawned, bitter and tired, and sagged into his creaky old desk chair with a sigh, speaker of his phone smothered against his five o' clock shadow. He had a cup of coffee in one hand and an open book in the other. “Tell me where you got that photo from.”

 

“I told you this already.” The slightly older male chuckled on the other end, “Some old man gave it to me.”

 

“I still don't believe you. You're lying to me.”

 

“No I'm not.”

 

“How the hell does one just somehow _magically_ get a picture of someone you know from some _random_ old man?”

 

“Beats me.” Leorio felt the guy's shrug all the way through their crappy connection and mumbled grumpily against the rip of his cup.

 

“When did it happen again? I mean, like, when did you run into this dude anyway?”

 

“It was actually after that incident in the alleyway with Gon and Killua. If I had to say so, I bet the man saw Gon and noticed me with them and that's why he gave the photo to me. I didn't go back when Killua and Gon left that night, so I ran into him after that.”

 

“What did he look like?”

 

“Like an old man?”

 

Leorio face palmed himself with his own book. “That doesn't help.”

 

“Why does that matter anyway? He gave me that photo of Gon assaulting the woman. Don't you think we should focus on finding the lady before we concern ourselves with whoever this old guy was?”

 

“Yeah, yeah. I guess.”

 

“Any word from Killua?”

 

“Not yet since yesterday morning when he was headed out to get information.”

 

“Well it is like 6 in the morning. I doubt he's going to call you all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed this early to tell you if he's found anything. How are you even this alert so early in the dang morning?”

 

Leorio's teeth grazed against the glass of his cup and grunted out, venting his frustration in simple, disturbing noises that Zepile coughed loudly against the speaker phone to make him stop. “M' sorry.” Leorio muttered, mouthing some coffee that was seeping off the side. “It's just frustrating, you know?”

 

“Yeah, I know. I worry about those two sometimes. Can't say I blame any of us for acting like a bunch of annoying parents or something weird like that. We're all so attached that it's silly.”

 

“It's not silly. It's crazy. Those brats always getting into trouble, I swear. When will they ever learn?”

 

“They're kids, Leorio.” Zepile reassured and Leorio shook his head in denial. “All kids get into trouble. But they're definitely one in a million, that's for sure. They've got something special in them and I don't want to see it get tarnished, yeah?”

 

“You're just as big of a sap as I am, Zepile.” The man with the bushy brows laughed.

 

“Maybe. I blame it on Gon.”

 

“I'd like to blame everything on Gon, too, but he just seems too naive and innocent for his own good.”

 

“They do say the innocent ones get into the most trouble.”

 

“True.”

 

Zepile sighed as Leorio ripped open another pack of sugar with his teeth and poured into his glass, swishing it around until thoroughly mixed. “Leorio.” He murmured on the other end, voice going quiet, “You've got to help them alright?”

 

“I will. Don't worry. I'm making plans as we speak.”

 

“Tomorrow when I see Killua at the Hunter Exam I'll talk to him. Anything you want me to pass along in case you don't meet up?”

 

Leorio gulped a sugary lump of coffee mixture and snorted. “Nothing that he doesn't already know. The brat wouldn't take much of advice even if his life was at stake.”

 

“Sounds just like him.”

 

“It does-”

 

_Ring. Ring._

 

Tugging the blaring noisy receiver from his ear, Leorio glared at his incoming caller with a look of absolute loathing. _Who the hell interrupts my-_

 

Kurapika.

 

“Hey, Zepile. I got another call. I'll talk to you later, okay?”

 

“Gotcha. See you, Leorio.”

 

“Later.”

 

He hung up then switched over, bringing the phone carefully against the side of his head with brows furrowed as static greeted him at first. “Hello-?”

 

“Leorio.”

 

Kurapika's voice was soft, cautious, and much more subdued then Leorio remembered it to be. How long had it been since they talked? Weeks? Months? He'd guess a year with how fast time flies by but he didn't want to convince himself that Kurapika really wanted to keep out of contact for _that_ long. This was Kurapika; the blonde Kurta they had befriended during the Hunter Exams and would have done anything for his comrades.

 

Consumed by the rage and undying need for revenge which tore him away.

 

“Kurapika-! How-? How are you?” Stuttered Leorio, almost flailing his arms so far that his cup clattered to the ground. But he barely missed hitting it and breathed a deep, sweet sigh of relief. “I mean- You know- Just, how have you been? It's been so long.”

 

“Yes. Yes it has.”

 

Leorio drummed his fingers on the desk, half-expecting Kurapika to continue the conversation and answer his questions, but all he got was silence. With a tick in his eye, Leorio clutched both hands over the beetle phone until they turned bone white and grumbled. “So. How have you been?” He repeated, hoping for a response. As if he wanted to be left in anymore of the dark then he already was with his Kurta friend. It was enough he was out of the loop with Gon and Killua but he did not need Kurapika packing the pounds on the side, too.

 

“I'm fairing well.” The answer sounded more forced and strained then anything. Leorio grunted.

 

“That's good to hear then.. Sooo, why the sudden call? You haven't answered any of my texts or emails, let alone my calls. Is there some kind of special occasion I should know about?”

 

“No.” Kurapika sighed. “Not really.”

 

“Then why call? It's-” He checked the clock and tapped his semi-broken watch with a gruff whine, “- _Piece of crap junk_ \- It's almost 8 in the morning. When did you become an early bird?”

 

The blonde chuckled but it was the least bit gentle. “I should be asking that to you, Leorio. You are rarely up this early, especially with how lively you sound as well.”

 

“Courteous of the coffee. Nothing like a dash of refreshing caffeine in the morning to wake you up, am I right?” He held up his mug in solitary cheer.

 

“You know coffee is bad for your health. Tea is a much better alternative with its natural affects and stimulants then what you find in processed coffee beans.”

 

“Well _excuse_ me, miss health-drink extraordinaire. Sorry I'm not as in tune with my liquids as you are. As long as it gives me energy, wakes me up, and does its job, then who cares what goes in? It's just coming out the same way in the end.”

 

Kurapika went silent but the purse of his lips did not and Leorio easily heard the way he thoughtfully chewed on his lip, like he was debating on an answer but couldn't quite get it to pass his approval. After a short pause, the blonde sighed on the other end and chuckled. “Yes, yes it does, Leorio. You are right. As long as it helps keep you awake, then I suppose that's all that would matter.”

 

“What's gotten into you?” Leorio huffed, “I mean, usually you're always scolding me about my health and dietary needs and suddenly you're agreeing with me? What have you been doing all this time, anyway? Do you know how worried sick we were? We were-”

 

“I know. You don't need to say it.” Interrupted Kurapika.

 

“Then why-”

 

“Because I've been busy with my own life, Leorio. If you remember correctly, Neon Nostrade lost her _Nen_ -fortune telling abilities which has put Light in a very precarious situation. Right now, he is still my boss, and he can use all the support he can get.”

 

“But even if he's struggling, you could have at least called! Or texted once. Answered at least _one_ of your god-damn messages. Come on, Kurapika, have a spine! We're your friends, too. Do we not matter?”

 

“You do.”

 

“Then why?”

 

“Because-”

 

“Don't give me that _bull shit_ Kurapika.” Leorio's grip tightened around his phone, the feeble device creaking inside his fingers, “If I can take the time out of my busy studying schedule to reply to my messages and crap, so can you.”

 

Kurapika mumbled but said nothing and Leorio took the initiative to continue. “I know you're busy and you got a job and you're still hell bent on defeating the Spiders and finding your people's eyes but you can't constantly keep pushing yourself to accommodate all these things without stopping to at least take _one stinking break_. Am I right? I know I'm right because you aren't responding and I can bet you're probably wasted tired and stressed and all sorts of shit that you won't even let at least one of your friends know about so we can _help_.”

 

Kurapika opened his mouth to speak and although the air of his breath brushing over the speaker was heard, Leorio spoke over him some more. “We care Kurapika. We care so damn much. _I care_ so bad it's stinking ridiculous but at least I make the time to check in on the people I care about. I don't know whether or not if you still care, since it has been so long, but you can at least try every once and awhile to talk to us and let us know how you're doing. Even just one word would be nice you know. _One word!_ That's all you have to do. Seriously.”

 

“Leorio-”

 

“No.” The doctor-to-be grit his teeth, bite in his tone, “I don't want to hear your sorry-ass excuses. I just want to hear you tell me that you'll at least try and give it to some thought. _Try_ to consider the people who desperately care and worry about you for a change and let them know that you're at least still alive and not brutally strung out in pieces somewhere from trying to fight a Troupe member or something. Like I want to be the one who's called to come clean up that mess. I don't ever want to see another person's blood on my hands again, do you hear me?”

 

The Kurta murmured something unintelligible before he sighed and nodded silently. “Yes. I hear you loud and clear Leorio.”

 

“Good. Now, why the hell did you suddenly decide to call me anyway? What's the special occasion?”

 

“Well,” Kurapika's fingers started drumming on some hard surface, or so it sounded like it anyways. “I caught wind of the incident with Gon through the Mafia. Something about illegal drug use. I wanted to confirm things with you on whether or not it was the truth.”

 

Dark eyes widening, Leorio gaped openly. “What? Seriously? It's not the incident with the woman and the lab raid, right?”

 

“No. But I heard about that too.”

 

Long digits went carding through dirty, unkempt locks in need of a shower as Leorio sagged in his chair, elbows on his desk keeping him propped upright from falling forward. There was an uncomfortable lump forming in his gut and it felt the least bit pleasant. “You're kidding.. There's more to it then just that one incident?”

 

“More? What do you mean? Where is Gon now?”

 

“Playing Greed Island. Killua is back here in the real world, just about to take the Hunter Exam. I found out from Zepile that Gon was using drugs and then Killua informed me of the rest. I just never knew the extent of the things he's done. There's seriously more?”

 

There was a little bit of static on the line, some shuffling, and then, “Leorio. There's a lot more that you don't know about then. You might want to go get Gon from the game yourself, before things get escalate and get worse.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Just, trust me on this one.” Kurapika sighed, resentment bitter on his lips. “Gon's done a lot of wrong things from what I've heard through the grape vine and if they're that bad, I can only imagine what may happen if he's left alone to fend for himself.”

 

“Well, he's not completely alone in the game as far as I've been told. Apparently they met someone named...” Leorio tapped his pencil several times over, thrumming through his memory to remember. “..Biscuit? Biscuit Kruger. That's taken over as their mentor to teach them more _Nen_. Or so Killua told me. So she's probably with him now if Killua is here taking the test by himself.”

 

“Then get a hold of her.”

 

“Kurapika-”

 

“Leorio. Just do it. Please. I've got to go.”

 

Leorio's mouth was parted, tongue on the tips of his teeth, and words in his throat ready to come out but the deadening beep of the other end repeating noisy in the background made everything dry up and die out in his mouth, swallowed down to join that aching pit in his chest. Kurapika had mumbled something that sounded faintly like _'I'm sorry_ ' before the phone went dead and shut off, effectively cutting him from his friend and last vestiges of hope of reacquainting their broken relationship.

 

It hurt, more or less to speak.

 

“Damnit, _Pika_.” He grunted out, slamming his phone down on the table before spinning his chair back towards his computer. Like a vent for his own frustrated emotions, Leorio ripped the keyboard over, slammed it down, and none-too-harshly pressed down hard on the keys a few times to wake the computer, open a browser, and type in Biscuit Kruger's name. Ironically, she showed up fairly fast listed under old associates of a group named _The Zodiacs_ in league with the Hunter Examination, or whatever that was.

 

Leorio honestly didn't give two shits right about now.

 

He found her number quick and turned around, pulling up his phone and pressing it between the space of his shoulder and ear once she was dialed. Sitting and waiting for the phone to pick up was the least of his worries, but he fretted the capability of even reaching a strange woman trapped in a video game just as Gon was. Was it even possible to use your phone in a virtual reality world? God knows what kinds of things those two boys were experiencing. Leorio hated to admit, but his skepticism started the first time they even mentioned that the game physically sucked you into the machine. How was it possible a video game system to sustain any amount of human life, let alone have them survive and coexist in another world for years on end like many others?

 

 _'Nen is limitless. The possibilities that can be unleashed have no bounds, Leorio._ ' His mentor had said once when he just so happened to be barely be paying attention. _'It's unpredictable, variable, and beyond anything any of us can comprehend. Whatever you think we can't do or shouldn't be possible; Nen can probably accomplish it. Never underestimate Nen, because someday it'll probably surprise you. Heh, I know it surprises me all the time._ '

 

 _Nen_ sure did surprise Leorio alright. One moment after another.

 

Just like a certain two boys he's been keeping tabs on, ever since the Hunter Exam.

 

“Hello, can I help you?” The woman's voice jostled his thoughts, like a leaf in a storm, and Leorio almost flew out of his chair if he hadn't known it was coming, but had been more focused and ready for it to sound the least. He fell forward in his seat, scrambled back up to re-position himself on his feet, and sat ramrod straight with a nervous laugh.

 

“Yeah- Uh- Sorry, but, do you happen to be someone named Biscuit Kruger?”

 

“That's me.” She answered right away and he heard a bit of shuffling on the other end, like she was changing her seating arrangement. There was a faint beeping of a machine and noisy clinking that Leorio could only guess was from inside a hospital. “Can I ask who this is?”

 

“Yeah, yeah.” Leorio laughed again, abashed, as he leaned back in his chair until it pressed into his desk and cleared his throat a few times to moisten the dryness from earlier. It was now or never for him. “My name's Leorio Paladiknight. I want to talk to you about Gon and Killua.”

 

“Gon and Killua? Are you friends of theirs?”

 

“Well, yeah, I am, actually. We've known each other since the Hunter Exam and are pretty good pals. I've been in touch with Killua since he came back to retake the exam for his license and I wanted to check up on Gon, too-”

 

“I see.” Biscuit interjected, a faint hint of pleased sadness there that Leorio faintly caught, “I see. That's good- Yeah- That's good to know. How is Killua?”

 

“Doing okay, actually. He's supposed to be taking the exam shortly as we speak and found his way pretty easy, that little shit.” He chuckled and surprisingly, so did Biscuit. She must know them that well enough to catch onto his joke, to that he was glad to know. “Anyway, I wanted to know how Gon was. You're still in the game, right?”

 

“Well, apparently so. I didn't know phones worked in a virtual reality but strangely they do.”

 

“That's really weird.”

 

“Yes, yes it is.” hummed Biscuit against the speaker and Leorio oddly liked the soothing quality to her voice, no matter how strained and melancholy it seemed right now. “But I suppose I won't question why my phone works if it means I can use it to call someone.”

 

“How is Gon now?”

 

“Uhm,” she muttered, “He's doing fine.”

 

“Just fine?”

 

“Just fine.”

 

As easy as it was for Biscuit to sound like she was lying, Leorio knew falseness when he heard it. He shook his head, slinking from his seat and moving to sit on his bed for a more comfortable spot. His back flopped onto the plush mattress, eyes closed while he held the phone to his ear and frowned against it, concerned. “The way you say it sure doesn't sound like it. Look, uh, Biscuit-”

 

“Call me Bisky. You don't need to be so formal.”

 

“-Bisky then.” He corrected himself. “Look Bisky, I know Gon is using drugs. I kind of knew before him and Killua joined the game. I just wasn't sure how to broach the subject to them and by the time I even had a clue on what I wanted to say, they were already gone and I was too busy with my medical studies to have the guts to say something. But now, I do, and I need to know how he's doing. I heard from another friend of ours about an incident that Gon was in concerning a hostage and a drug raid, which pretty much confirms how grave the situation is. Killua's told me a lot, too, but since I'm pretty much here and they're pretty much... well, wherever the hell Greed Island exists in, I don't know what to do to help. But I want to help. _Shit_ , I am going to help no matter what it takes. I don't care if I have to hack the damn game myself to get there, I will help-”

 

Biscuit's voice trembled when she talked over him, shaky and . “That's so sweet of you. You sound like a really good friend to have, Leorio.”

 

“Buh-?”

 

As flustered as Leorio became and unable to respond, Biscuit didn't stop the torture. “You sound like a very sweet man, Leorio. I don't know how old you are, but you seem responsible and you must care a lot about those two boys just by the way you say things. I can tell you cherish them a lot and well, that makes me really happy.” Her voice cracked a little and Leorio stuttered in earnest, wanting to speak but could not. “I'm really happy those two have someone like you who still cares and supports them so much. Especially at such a time like this.”

 

“I- Uh- Well, uhm, thanks, I guess? I think. I mean, I care a lot about those two brats. They're like family to me and well, you know.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Heh.” Leorio rubbed the side of his head in an embarrassed gesture and chuckled. “Anyway, are you with Gon right now? How is he doing?”

 

“Actually, he-”

 

_BANG. SMASH. CRASH._

 

Leorio bolted upright at the abrupt clatter and clang of something on the other end sounding, loud and thunderous that his ear drums were ringing. There was a lot of shouting roaring to life and Biscuit's breath squeaked over the line until a hard bang of a door being slammed open and heavy foot steps made Leorio wince and pull the phone away when the receiver fizzled out from the ferocity. There was a lot of static, more incoherent shouting and frantic yells from mostly women (he assumed might have been nurses), before Biscuit let out a big, panicked gasp that Leorio recognized as _fear_ and he pressed the speaker to his mouth and called out frantically for an answer.

 

“Hey! Bisky, what's going on? Hello? Can you hear me? Bisky!”

 

“No- Oh, no- I can't believe it-”

 

“Bisky?”

 

“He can't be- He seriously just- Gon-!”

 

“Bisky!”

 

“Where did he go? Who let him out? Hey-”

 

“Bis-”

 

“Call somebody! Get somebody down here now. Don't let him-”

 

“Are you insane? You're an idiot-”

 

“I told you I was-”

 

“Well if you were, then why are you-”

 

“You-”

 

“ _Bitch_ -”

 

“Hey- why are you-”

 

“Gon, wait-!”

 

“ _BISCUIT!_ ” Leorio all-but screamed into his phone, regretting his actions but the fear was gripping him, too, like a vice and he was afraid any moment he'd be thrown into a heart attack of some sort if he didn't get somebody to answer. “What the hell is going on?!”

 

Biscuit shuddered, her startled inhale making him feel sorry, but she gulped forcibly and said, “Leorio. He's- Gon is-”

 

“What happened to Gon?” He tried, really _tried_ to seem calm, but he was wavering almost as much as Biscuit let off to be and that terrified him. “Biscuit, tell me what happened to him-”

 

“Gon- He-”

 

“Biscuit!”

 

“He's gone!”

 

“...”

 

“Gon. He-”

 

“Where did he go?”

 

“I don't know. Gon just- He just-” Biscuit sighed, finally evening out the tempo in her voice and quiet filled the empty spaces in the background of her words. Leorio felt the hollow, vacant void fit between the spaces of her slow, even breaths before she picked back up again, seeming more silent then ever. “Gon ran away. He broke out of the hospital room and fled through the window. He took all the drugs he had stashed with himself and ran. Gon is gone.”

 

As much as Leorio wanted to bust out a laugh at the pun, all he could do was face palm and slide his hand down the front of his face, groaning.

 

And here, just Killua was the annoying brat. Now this made two.

 

“Well, damnit that little _shit_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gon is GONE.
> 
> Gon' damnit.
> 
> /punshotplz


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gon and his first slip up into insanity.
> 
> [Warning: Several flashbacks. Mentions of violence and rape]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're gonna start seeing more of these flashbacks as Gon slowly starts to lose it. Like usual, it's explained as we go so more people have a better grasping of the effects of Meth use and binges, because it's never pretty in the climax. You have been warned this is going to get more graphic and bad as we go. Plenty of angst bebi. So if you can't handle it, please be advised.
> 
> Thanks for all the support as always. My heart flutters, I'm so excited.~
> 
> I'm gonna focus on finishing this High story before I proceed with my War AU (Light in Shadows) for anybody who happens to read both, so I can focus on completing one thing for a damn change and then move to the other. With work and fair among other things coming up, it's the best idea I don't have too many projects or I AM GONNA GO NUTS AHHHH.
> 
> /end rant oops sorry
> 
> Enjoy.

“ **To take all that you've got and burn it on the spot.”**

 

Ivory hair swayed back and forth as Killua stared open mouthed at the wreckage of what was once a stable, sturdy wall on the 12th floor of the hospital ward. Now it was nothing but a massive hole blown through and the opening was large enough to let a strong, gusty breeze roll in. Killua felt his loose fitted trunks chill his thighs from the cold air and he snorted, patting down his shorts with a sigh.

 

“So, he's gone.”

 

“Pretty much.” Biscuit said from beside him, blond curls bouncing at the sides of her head, “It's only been three hours. He can't have gotten too far.”

 

“Then why didn't you go out and find himself instead of _waiting_ for me to return?!” Killua argued but Biscuit brushed him off with a scoff.

 

“It happened so fast that I wasn't able to track in which direction he ran off to. He must have used _Zetsu_ or something to prohibit me from following him.”

 

“Why weren't you keeping an eye on him in the first place?”

 

“Blame your friend, Leorio, for calling me. He wanted to talk to me about you two when Gon made his escape. I couldn't just hang up on him. That would have been rude.”

 

Threading his pale fingers through his paler hair, Killua grumbled. “You could have been rude for once if it meant Gon was safe. Leorio would have gotten over it.”

 

Biscuit swung and her small fist whacked him on the back of the noggin. Killua jolted forward, blue eyes blown out of proportion, then rounded back on her with his teeth bared and hissing. “What the hell was that for?!”

 

“Being an inconsiderate idiot. Leorio's your friend and a nice man. You should be better to your friends.”

 

“Well being nice to my friends resulted in us losing Gon!” Killua threw up his arms for emphasis while Biscuit glared out the corner of her eye. “We're in a stupid ass game! How are we supposed to find him now? Who knows how big this place is and how long it will take for us to find him here!”

 

Biscuit raised a gloved hand and ruffled at his hair, making the young adolescent bristle like a disturbed cat. “Relax. I've already looked around and found us an easy way to find him. There are spell cards that allow us to magically teleport to his location, so once we secure ourselves enough money, we can get to him.”

 

Killua narrowed his icy pupils, turned away, and folded his arms in front of his chest. “Fine, yeah, whatever. Let's just get this over and done with so we can get back with Gon.”

 

“Somebody sure is attached to their best friend. Or should I say boyfriend-”~

 

“-SHUT UP AND EARN SOME MONEY OLD HAG-!”

 

_SMACK._

 

* * *

 

 

“Magnetic force.” Killua read off the name of the card then promptly dropped it with a scowl. “Well that sure sounds dumb.”

 

“A card is a card, Killua. It's better then nothing.” Biscuit fingered the slot in her book that one copy of the aforementioned card was placed into. But it still was not enough, not yet.

 

“I guess so.”

 

“Book.” The binder disappeared from sight as the blonde woman lowered her hand and smiled, “Alright. So we're going to stick to the plan, yes?”

 

“Yeah. I'll go and meet up with Gon, keep him in one place for awhile until Leorio arrives in-game and you get an Accompany card to join us or at least another Magnetic Force. I still don't get why you invited that cocky old man. There's no way he'd survive in a game world like this.”

 

“Because he really wants to help you _and_ Gon, Killua. He cares about you and during our talk I could see how much he really does want to do something. Leorio even took off time from his studies just to come here so you should be more appreciative we'll at least have back-up to deal with this situation.”

 

“We don't need any back-up. We can take care of this just fine.”

 

“No,” Biscuit pinched both of Killua's cheeks, hard, “We can't. We need help. _Gon_ needs help. And he can use all the support he can get before he does something stupid or worse.”

 

“Yeah, like what? What more stupid things can Gon get himself into? What else can he do that isn't worse? Kill himself?”

 

The joke soared over their heads, leaving them in a suspended silence for a long while. Biscuit coughed to clear her throat as Killua bowed his head, felling ashamed at his own words.

 

Of course suicide was an option for any drug addict who couldn't sate their thirst for those potent chemicals. If Gon ran out of whatever he happened to have stashed; or even just overdosed in general, what was there keeping him from slipping under the knife into a pool of his own blood?

 

_Nothing._

 

Hell, all Killua knew is that he could possibly activate a spell card that led him straight to his already-dead body, face down, wet with crimson color, eyes blotched of life. His clothes would be stained red; those coveted green cloths that Killua had grown so accustomed to painted a new color that would haunt him forever. He couldn't even imagine it, even after all the times he's lived his life made acquaintances with the scarlet glow; to think of the Gon raised by the forest, pine and leaves and made by the wood and earth alone – Red and burning, boiled and bloody.

 

And dead, that too.

 

Killua swallowed bile down and squeezed his stinging eyes shut before the tears escaped. _I'm the real idiot here._

 

“ _I'm an idiot, Killua, but that's why I have you. You keep me on the right path that way I don't do any stupid stuff. So, I'm counting on you!”_

 

“Tch.” He bit down on his lip, tasting droplets laced with metal, and stepped forward so the Magnetic Force card flashed in front of his vision, glossy against the sun. “I'm going now. Just hurry up with that dumb oaf and meet me as soon as you can, Bisky.”

 

“I will.” She promised, smiling faintly at the back of Killua's white mop of hair. “Just be careful okay? Use a Contact card if anything happens.”

 

Killua briskly nodded. Not looking back, he raised the card in the air and shouted, “Magnetic Force, on. Gon!”

 

The card flashed out of view in a blinding light. His body evaporated, pulling in on itself like an elastic band and snapped, similar to rubber. He was catapulted skyward and vanished in but a blink as Biscuit stood, motionless on the ground and gazing up at his retreating form, smile now a small, sad frown.

 

“Please Killua, be careful.”

 

* * *

 

 

“ _Meth?”_

 

_Gon sat, poking the blunt end of a piece of crystal wedged between a rolled up sheet of paper. The two others sitting beside him were long since occupying themselves in smoking the foreign stuff, but Gon still hesitated, lighter in one hand and the make-shift cigar in the other._

 

_It was the rock that threw him off guard, always imagining a cigarette as those long, white sticks with pieces of chunky black ash in them that the sailors fawned over back on Whale Island. Not a big, fat stalagmite hovering on your tongue, puffing out plumes of potent, strong smelling smoke when it's rolled up inside a scrap of cheap white paper._

 

_He twirled it around a few times over his index and forefingers, mouth set in a thin line out of thought. “What is Meth?” He asked out loud, earning weird, blank stares from the other two. They were sitting, alone in the back alleyway behind a grocery mart so it was quiet outside the constant thuds of footfalls on the other side and voices from within the walls. Gon didn't want to admit it out loud, but hiding here in the dark, squishy space was uncomfortable._

 

_But he wanted more of the strange tasting stuff; whatever it was, so he came back for a second go. And this is how he was here now, taking shelter in an alleyway with a joint in hand and confusion in the other. Because before, he had simply smoked a cigar; sweet and fruity like a good smoothie or a piece of fresh fruit._

 

_Not a stone, that smelled way too strong for an average human being to stand ingesting, let alone inhaling. Yet these people were doing it like it was completely normal – **completely okay** – and that confused Gon greatly._

 

_Since when did people smoke rocks? Rocks called 'Meth' no less._

 

“ _It's called Crystal Meth, moron.” One girl spoke, lips puckered around the rim of her joint until they were moist with saliva. She pulled it away, exhaling a ring of gray smoke in front of her then smirked. “What are you, five?”_

 

“ _No. I'm thirteen almost fourteen.” Gon answered honestly and the second guy laughed, loudly._

 

“ _Whatever, idiot. This shit you're fawning over is called Methamphetamine or Meth. It's the best drug you'll find around these parts that will get the job done. Shit's great you know. Instantly hooked.”_

 

“ _So it's a rock? Aren't most drugs made from plants and chemicals?” quarried Gon, remembering all the times Aunt Mito explained what certain drugs were made out of. Either it was made from a plant or mechanically processed chemicals in a laboratory – Like the prescription pills Gon always refused to take every time he got gravely hurt. He wanted to live without the support of man-made things and live life on the edge;defiant and powerful because he felt like it might make him stronger in the end._

 

_Aunt Mito approved of this ideal, in an odd way._

 

“ _Not every drug is made from prissy crap like that.” The girl flicked a few pieces of ash from her burnt nail bed. Gon grimaced at how angry and red it glowed in the dim lighting and looked away, opting to stare longer at the crystal in his hand then the others icky states around him. “Some stuff is made by much more better means, like Meth. It's a processed crystal in it's rawest form and every other time it's made into powder, pills, and sometimes liquid but that's even harder to find unless you're dead serious. It's better just to smoke the shit. You'll get about the same effects anyway.”_

 

_Powder? Pill? Liquid? The same effects? So there were different effects depending on the method? Gon wondered, wanting to ask but not daring to dig too deep. He wasn't sure he was prepared for the headaches it'd bring trying to memorize all this stuff. For now, he would settle for what he's got in his hand._

 

_Gon sucked in a big whiff once as the flame from his lighter lit the tip of the crystal and it illuminated like a scarlet rage inside a volcano; deep and penetrating like the sweet, noxious fumes did on Gon's head._

 

_It felt amazing, like an adrenaline rush Gon was familiar with whenever he was challenged in combat. Like how he felt fighting Hisoka, battling through the grueling tests of the Hunter Exam, of being in danger period._

 

_If he could just get this high from doing nothing but smoke a piece of rock – Then Gon would be plenty happy._

 

_He brought the joint to his lips and breathed in, thoroughly convincing himself that this was something okay, if it meant he could be happy for a change. Selfishly happy, at least._

 

Gon Freecs sat on the forest floor, stranded somewhere in the depths of the jungle he'd fled into some hours ago and he oddly didn't care that he was lost. Amber eyes were blearily focused on the empty needles lying at his feet, the swollen abscessing lumps on his arms, the crusted spaces between his fingers where some leftover powder stuck, the every bit of his being that was blanketed by this Crystal Meth.

 

There was nothing left of his stash. He had used it all in one go, so consumed in the tidal wave of emotion that hit him the split second he bolted upright from his bed confused and disorientated. Since when did he end up in a hospital bed? There were needles in his arms, pumping fluids that felt the least bit safe in comparison to what he remembered injecting not too long ago, prior to him slipping into a blissful sleep. And there was beeping machines that sounded more like loud, grating blows against the sides of his skull. The bright, pure white atmosphere blinded him – He wasn't used to any of this and he wanted the darkness of his quiet alleyways back again.

 

So this is how Gon ended up here, cut and banged up from blasting through the nearest opening he could find; a window, and running for what felt like a day (he guessed it was really hours but it still felt wrong) before he stumbled to the ground, unable to go a second longer without something familiar to ease him.

 

Gon had pulled out the stuff with shaky hands, a shaky body that dumped the contents of his backpack all over the grass and hastily fumbled with anything he could grab; shoving it wherever he could without thought. He swallowed all the pills he could push down his throat, he lost most of the powder to the unsteadiness in the tremor of his digits so he settled to rub it along his skin until it burned like acid and Gon still didn't care. He wanted whatever this was; whatever lay out before him calling his name in such a sweet, seductive call – That he couldn't care less however he embraced it if it meant getting the same effect.

 

Peace. He felt at peace with the drug, with Meth at his side, that he went as far as to press both needles to his skin and not hesitate to draw the needle back out when it was sucked dry.

 

Gon sagged backwards until he collapsed on the ground, eyes fluttering shut and he smiled. It was almost instant; the effect of drugs entering his body, that his mind went wayward to a heavenly dreamland, so far gone he didn't pay attention to the images flashing across his vision like a movie reel happening in real life.

 

It was real life, wasn't it?

 

“ _Hey, you.”_

 

_Gon turned and blinked, head cocked to the side as he was approached by another male far taller then him and much more broad. He was a built guy, stubble on his chin and dark chest hair poking out beneath the tight-fitted tank top he wore. Gon swallowed, smelling a lot of rancid, burnt chemical odors bouncing off of him and averted his nose away from the cheaper drugged smell. Since he'd tried out the stuff, Gon came to realize that the better quality Meth was much more worth it, now, if it meant getting a better dosage with better effects, anyway._

 

“ _Can I help you?” asked Gon, keeping his gaze sideways so he could both keep track of the man's movements and yet not look directly at him. “I'm kind of busy here you know. Waiting on some friends.”_

_  
Which Gon was, waiting on his suppliers to show. It was somewhere between midnight and morning – Gon lost track, so they were bound to show up eventually. He didn't want to wait too much longer, less he have Killua on his trail or any other suspicious characters, so he was pushing his patience enough already. But Gon was out of Meth so he needed to restock, especially before the trials for Greed Island approached._

 

_Better to stock up ahead of time, then scramble at the last minute._

 

_When the burly man didn't respond immediately, Gon fully rounded in his direction and looked straight on, brow raised. “Hello, sir-?”_

 

_In but a flash, the guy was throwing his weight forward and crashing Gon into the nearest wall, where he collided with a stray trash can and falling to the pavement with a hiss and a clang of metal at his heels. He winced, rubbing at his midsection where a bruise certainly would form despite using Nen to protect himself, and Gon looked up, eyes narrowed and calculating. “Hey! What was that for?” He shouted out at the stationary male who was hovering, face dark and shadowed by the building's walls casting blackness all around. Back here, there was very little light to go on and thanks to Gon's super sensitive night vision, he was able to see, but it still wasn't enough to clearly make out the person._

 

_His instincts, however, were screaming otherwise and a bad feeling loomed in the far cry of his consciousness. Gon wasn't privy on not following his instincts – He trusted them with his life ten times out of ten, so when the alarm bells started ringing in his head, he was seconds from springing to life and making a dash for it. If it hadn't been for the man in his way, big and brawny and packed with muscle and weight, to squash him like a bug against the wall and keep him pinned; then Gon would have easily escaped and been free._

 

_He was too late, timing off by a few seconds and his quick step not quick enough, as the guy lunged and held him glued back first to the wall, squeezed by the throat until he was sputtering out incoherently against the restraint._

 

_Gon opened his mouth to speak, to try and vocalize anything understandable, and then-_

 

“ _ **Hey, did you know Meth makes the best aphrodisiac?”**_

 

_Gon was then staring at the three pills nestled in the palm of his hand, then back up at the tall, blonde girl in front of him, smiling so sweet. There was a flash of teeth there and Gon rose a brow, oddly reminded of the Cheshire grin Killua sported sometimes when he was becoming mischievous._

 

_He liked it, and staring at this girl stirred a blossoming of feelings in his chest. His heart flipped._

 

“ _What's an aphrodisiac?”_

 

_Ever so sweetly, the girl reached forward and slid her long nailed fingers along the callouses of his palm until it closed over the space where the pills lie, purring purposefully in his ear. The heat from his chest dropped downward, to his groin, and Gon felt an odd stir as she whispered into her ear in the same way he imagined Killua doing so, when trying to be flirtatious and a tease. He'd only seen the briefest amount of visuals from the television or the snippets of Killua's porn movies late at night, so he wasn't entirely sure how it was supposed to go exactly._

 

_But it felt right, and to Gon, that was enough._

 

“ _Instead of telling you, why don't I show you, Gon?”_

 

_He was about to say something, to either accept or deny he did not know, but then-_

 

“ ** _What's gay mean?”_**

 

_Kurapika was coughing and choking in front of Gon and he rushed forward to gently rub at his friend's back in soothing circles. It was just a few days before he was planning on leaving, so Gon figured it out was about time to confront maybe the only person he knew who could help him learn what this whole 'gay' thing was about._

 

_Many of the other teens were talking nonstop about it; how it was much safer then the whole girl-boy scenario and after that last incident with Gon and the blonde girl and.._

 

_Well, a unplanned supposed 'baby' at the side; wasn't exactly how Gon imagined his life going in order, anyways; if it was even real to begin with._

 

_Nor did he imagine how he blanked out after her ranting on him stepping up to become an appropriate father for their supposed 'child' only to find her dead at his side the next moment, brutally beaten and silent._

 

_There was blood on her, on him, all over him; and Gon wordlessly walked away without sparing another glance, not questioning things further._

 

_He didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to know._

 

_The only conclusion to a safer scenario was this 'gay' thing he heard so much talk over. That it was even better then the heterosexual pair; the pair he grew up believing from Mito-san that it was the right way for two people to live, to breed and marry and have a family with._

 

_This 'gay' thing was like an entirely new side of the coin Gon had been staring too long at._

 

_Since Leorio was busy elsewhere, that left Kurapika to take up the slack and hopefully help. And rid his mind of the Spider's incident, the very least. Gon thought it would be considerate enough to possibly help, so he took the opportunity. Which so happened to be now, as Kurapika was wheezing from the strain of breathing and Gon at his side, still rubbing soothing circles on his very tense back._

 

_Hopefully he hadn't gone too far enough that Kurapika wouldn't answer. He hoped._

 

“ _Kurapika, are you okay?”_

 

“ _I'm okay, Gon. You just surprised me.” The Kurta forced out, feigning a believable smile. Gon brightened, beaming in excitement._

 

“ _Then if you're okay, will you tell me what gay means?”_

 

_Kurapika did another jerk, gag, then cleared his throat until his mouth twitched and he was staring at Gon's eager, wide-eyed gaze with a grimace. “Where did you hear the word 'gay' from, Gon?”_

 

“ _Just some people. But I really want to know what it means! You've got to tell me, Kurapika! You do know what it is, right? Right?”_

 

_Gon was bouncing up and down on the couch and it took more energy then necessary for Kurapika to keep the youth from flying through the ceiling. The blonde male shook his head and let out an exasperated sigh. “I do, Gon, but I don't think it's a good idea to be learning about this so early-”_

 

“ _SO YOU DO KNOW? KURAPIKA,YOU HAVE TO TELL ME. NOW! PLEASE. PLEASE. PLEASE. PLEASE!”_

 

_Gon fell into a mantra of 'please' so many times that Kurapika finally burst after a minute in the round and shouted, almost at the top of his lungs, “OKAY GON. I WILL JUST, PLEASE, STOP.”_

 

“ _Okay.”_

 

_Gon settled down and the older one slunk back into the couch cushion, sliding his hand down his face slowly. “Gay means to like someone of the same gender, Gon. It means that a guy can like another guy or a girl can like another girl.”_

 

“ _But what about the guy liking a girl part?” Gon asked, head canting sideways, “Mito-san told me that when people grow up, they marry someone of the other gender so they can have kids and raise a family.”_

 

“ _Gay people can have a family, too, Gon. They just can't reproduce and have a child of their own so often times or not, they adopt a child.”_

 

“ _Then how do they have sex?”_

 

 _Kurapika almost,_ _**almost** _ _, regurgitated his own lung out with how hard he was coughing and Gon apologetically patted at his back a few times, murmuring 'sorry' several times before the Kurta regained his voice and grunted. “It's complicated, Gon, I mean it varies depending on the couple and-”_

 

“ _Will you tell me how two guys have sex?”_

 

_With an uncontrollably shaking fist, Kurapika bonked Gon straight across the back of his head and the younger one went lurching forward with a squeak. But as soon as he had moved forward, he sprung right back up grinning ear to ear and spoke like the hit had never happened. “Come on, Kurapika! Please tell me! Please. Please. PLEASE. PLEASE!-”_

_  
“Gon, please, stop with the asking. You're really too young for this-”_

 

“ _I'm not too young for this. I've had sex before so-!”_

 

“ _You had sex?!” exclaimed Kurapika and promptly slapped a hand over his mouth for being too loud, in case others heard. As if he needed Leorio or anyone else to know. Then Gon would certainly be in for it._

 

“ _Well, yeah, I did. A few times.” Gon seemed to be counting on his fingers in the air, and out loud. “There was once with that one really cute blonde girl, and another time with someone who had really short, shaggy hair and blue eyes and-”_

 

_Kurapika moved his hand over his mouth to covering Gon's own and stared, wild-eyed like a deer caught by the headlights. “Gon, why are you having sex? You're barely thirteen. You shouldn't be doing something so rash like that so soon. Who even taught you what sex is?”_

 

_He pulled his hand away for the youth to speak and the answer was nothing like how he expected._

 

“ _Well, Mito-san told me about it when I was really young, but she didn't tell me very much before I left to take the Hunter Exam. Then I saw a few times in the porn movies that Killua watches late at night two people doing things so I kind of guessed from there. Oh, and this one time I found a few of these XXX rated magazines that Leorio had hidden under his bed and in his suitcase and sneaked a peak. There was a lot of naked women on there and-”_

 

_Kurapika slid his palm back over Gon's lips, effectively silencing him, and sighed while he rubbed his temples with his free hand. “Okay, that's enough. I get the gist of things now, Gon. Please, you can stop. I do have one question for you, however, before I say anything else.”_

 

“ _Okay.” Gon muffled out past Kurapika's slick skin, damp from the gathering sweat of their contact._

 

“ _When you had sex, were you using any kind of protection?”_

 

“ _What's protection?”_

 

_Yeah. If Kurapika wasn't going to die by the spider's hands, he would die by a Gon Freecs._

 

“ _Okay. Here's the deal, Gon. If you promise to use protection from now on when you have sex, I will tell you about how two men do the act. Is that okay with you?”_

 

“ _Sure!” Gon exploded with glee, throwing up his arms and cheered. “Alright! Kurapika's going to tell me how to have gay sex-”_

 

_He muffled out the rest of his words against the hand and stopped, chuckling when it was removed to smile, lopsided and goofy like always._

 

“ _Hey, Kurapika. Are you gay?”_

 

_The blonde gazed cautiously in his path, gray eyes unblinking, as he parted his lips and started._

 

“ _I-”_

 

“ ** _It feels so good._** _”_

 

_Gon wasn't sure how much faster he could thrust, but he was certainly trying, and the compliant body beneath him was moving just as rapid; their breaths mingling and quick like the rough pace Gon had set, ever since they started._

 

_A bronzed skinned hand tickled at the stark pale-white flesh nestled against his own, testing the elasticity of it as he pulled and pinched on it a few times. It sprung back to its original position in the same way his cock was when he moved forward, groaning in the process._

 

_Who knew 'gay' sex could be so much more satisfying?_

 

_The tightness was something he had gotten used to in such a short time, but it wasn't so much the pleasure of delicious friction surrounding a part of him swollen with need and desperation – It was the fact that every single person resembled a certain other._

 

 _In his fantasies, drowned in a high of drug and smoke and pleasure, Gon imagined Killua beneath him every time; fitful in lust and need, swallowed up in his desire to be fucked in any number of positions, any number of places;_ **_anywhere_ ** _._

 

_And that's what felt so good, thinking of his best friend below him, on top of him, anywhere on him begging for more as Gon entered at a relentless pace; like a battering ram and breaking away every single wall of Killua's impenetrable fortress – So willing and wanting despite how strong it's sheer willpower is. Killua desired him, somewhere in his dreams, and Gon would comply every time and give him exactly what he wanted, wherever and however it was._

 

_The stimulation of drugs that give him a crescendo towards heaven – Where this Killua was – was simply a bonus._

 

_A good bonus, indeed, as Gon licked his lips and his hips snapped forward, just like his body that-_

 

“ _ **You like that, you little punk?”**_

 

“ _N-no! Of course not! L-let me go!”_

 

_Gon cried out sharply, not out of pleasure, but pain as the grizzly man above him shot forward, burying himself to the hilt. Gon felt the hot pulse deep within him, right at the back end, and he flinched at how painful it was to be stretched so wide with little preparation. There was hot wetness there, dripping along the inside of his thighs, and Gon shivered knowingly at the familiar sensation of being ripped apart from the inside out._

 

_Was this what it was like the other way around?_

 

_Blunt nails dug sharply into the cement beneath him, attempting to scrabble from under the hard-pressed weight above him, but Gon found it futile the more he struggled. It just made the agony in his rear end worse, especially when the man started moving above him, using the weight in his torso to keep Gon's upper-half pinned to the icy floor below._

 

“ _G-get off!” Gon yelled, thrashing until he found his face smashed so hard his front teeth chipped and the bones in his nose crunched like they may have been broken. Blood slid down to touch his upper lip and he licked it away, shivering. The man kept his grip held tightly, pulling on his ebony locks without remorse so his scalp stung, and Gon shimmied back and forth in a vain attempt to wiggle through an escape route. With his shredded shorts and undergarments tangled around his boots, it was hard to get them free enough to do anything let alone weasel out of the barest space left between the bigger man's body and his own._

 

_When the hell did he even end up in a situation with another grown adult raping him, anyway? Gon had put up quite a good fight, fast and steady on his feet and throwing in a couple of good punches. The man's busted nose, cut cheek, and broken shoulder may have been a compliment. There was bruises on his back and scalp where Gon managed a few nice kicks until he was thrown like a weightless rag doll around so many times his head spun and he wasn't sure any of his rattled bones would ever start shaking after this for a long time the least._

 

_There was crevices in the walls of buildings and caved in parts of steel trash bins and dumpsters that Gon would be feeling for days at least, even with his speed healing._

 

_But when the man initiated his Nen, Gon knew he was screwed in more ways then one._

 

_Spitting out another globule of blood in front of him, Gon pinched his knees in, trying to alleviate some of the pressure of the man's groin grinding against his rear, and hissed. It hurt; it hurt worse then any pain Gon had ever felt assault his well being before. He never experienced such agony as it radiated up and down his spine, from the tips of his toes back to his fingertips and straight to his head. He grit his teeth, wanting to scream, to cry, to wail and beg and yell for help or freedom, but all that came out was a strangled gasp when his face was mashed until he could do nothing but mumble out a slur of words in plea._

 

_It was hopeless. This entire situation was hopeless._

 

_And as Gon was all but prepared to give up, lie here and take what he certainly did not want (but maybe deserved for all the crap he's pulled this past month or so); he heard something. There was a rush of voices from up above suddenly, chorusing all sorts of jumbled things, and Gon's head snapped up in realization of who those voices belonged to._

 

_There was four of them; three boys and one girl, all tall, all lanky with the lead character defined by ample muscle and a boldness that extended his chest outward with pride. Gon beamed, for once, feeling that sliver of hope come back to him, expecting his suppliers-turned-friends (?) to come to his aid._

 

_But his heart dropped in his chest, like the weight of the man moving and grunting above him did, squashing him into the pavement as the four teenagers gaped openly, then laughed as they ran off._

 

_And Gon was alone, again. Utterly and hopelessly alone._

 

_**Idiot.** _

 

_There was a low, deep-throaty moan and the squelch sound of something wet between his thighs that Gon winced at, shifting to avoid it to no use. It slid down his skin, dripped onto the ground, and felt like ice inside his legs so he shivered. The man pulled off of him and Gon was thankful for the release in pressure. He made a move to get up himself when a thick, fat hand grabbed hold of him by the back of his head and abruptly his world came flying face first into gray then black. The cement met him half-way and he didn't see nor hear anything else but total pitch darkness thereafter._

 

 _Hopeless_ **_and_ ** _an idiot._

 

“ _I'm so stupid-”_

 

“I'm so stupid.”

 

Repeating his own words, Gon's eyes flew open in the same way his spine did, shooting his body upward into a seated position with vision blown out of proportion. His dilated pupils took a moment to adjust to the faint lighting of the shaded trees around him and the nausea built in the recesses of his abdomen hit like a ton of bricks, throwing him to the side so he could hurl out whatever was in his stomach, keep it from getting any on himself.

 

Shaking and on all fours, Gon wheezed and spat out a few wads of saliva mixed with bile after what could translate as an hour into only a few minutes. There was a sheen of sweat gathered on his face like a second mask and honeyed eyes were transfixed by the way they slid off the tip of his nose, the angled corners of his jawline and into the pile of foul-smelling gunk mixed into the grass, remnants of his panic-induced state.

 

And although Gon wanted nothing but to throw up more, he could only manage another small dry heave before he pushed himself backwards and onto his sore rump, blinking dazedly at his surroundings.

 

_Where am I?_

 

Gon had been so lost in his daydreaming that he couldn't even remember where he was let alone how he got there. It appeared to be a forest and everything prior to coming here was just a big, gaping blank.

 

Where was somebody when he needed them?

 

Turning side to side, Gon surveyed his surroundings. Nothing but forest. How long had he been in a forest? He turned over, clutching desperately at all the scraps of needles and baggies lying scattered around as disheveled as his hair and clothes were, stuck to his skin in a plaster of painted sweat. He felt itchy all over, thousands upon thousands of bugs crawling their way through his skin and Gon started to frantically scratch at every part of his exposed body he could reach. Dull nails clawed, raw, pulsating lines throbbed in a crimson glow past the tanned color and Gon hissed, tearing away to pick up whatever was around him and examine it.

 

Drugs. They were his drugs weren't they?

 

His fingertips touched the bags and he breathed in deep the smell of fragrant bleach and chemicals but to him it was as close to his home land as he could imagine and that made Gon giggle with pleasure.

 

He wasn't smelling drugs. He was smelling laundry fresh from the line hanging outside of Aunt Mito's home. He was smelling her newly home-cooked meals, piled high upon the table and neatly set on cleanly washed plates and utensils. He was smelling the pungent odor of her apron, her homely clothes, her cherry-top hair. He was smelling grandma, what with her soft, distinct scent that oddly reminded him of flowers and honey, just like bee's might remember it. He was smelling the home, his room filled with oak and cedar and all kinds of nature's inhabitants. He was smelling Whale Island all over again and to Gon, this was his addiction.

 

_Home. This is home._

 

Gon pulled the baggies cradled in his arms closer, squeezing them in his embrace, and moaned softly. Oh, what he would give to be back home with Mito and Oba-chan, enjoying the small talk, the big meals, the comforting scenery. Gon would give anything to experience it again and this was like the closest thing to him to bring him home. How someone managed to create something that strangely smelled exactly like his homeland, was beyond Gon, but all that mattered was that it was here and no place else.

 

_Wait. There's something off._

 

His nose twitched. Gon glanced down and realized that the smell was fading, just as whatever was in the baggies was also subsiding. He pulled it to his face, inhaling deep, and noticed how empty the plastic was. Shaking it a few times down, nothing but prickles of dust fell just like Gon's heart did.

 

_No- No- No!_

 

Quickly, Gon leaped forward and scrabbled to get a good grip on the needles, his hands so jerky everything drifted away. Farther and farther they were getting out of reach – like that smell – and Gon felt the panic in his chest pumping loud in his head, a toll of drums orchestrating his lamentation.

 

_Please- wait- come back!_

 

Gon grabbed the needle, pushed on the lever, and pressed it to his skin in a familiar gesture he barely could remember. Nothing but the dry prick of his arm.

 

_No- NO! Please-!_

 

Tears welled in his eyes, fat droplets falling to his scrapped knees, and Gon stared empty and hollow down at the things that carried that scent he longed so much for. All gone. There was nothing left of the odor. It hurt, incredibly so, and Gon felt broken and lost without them.

 

_I- I have to get more._

 

His shadowed thoughts spoke up, lighting Gon's eyes with an hysterical fire, and he squealed out with glee at his own solution. _That's right- If I get more then- then I can smell that smell again! I'll be reminded of home. I won't be alone anymore!_

 

Gon pushed off on his first leg, rising to his full height and vision blurred as his head swung side to side out of indecisiveness. Which way should he go? Where was that stuff that made Whale Island return? Where did his home go? Gon tensed his leg, about ready to sprint off in some random direction, when a flash of light exploded out in front of him. He was thrown backwards in the powerful blast, falling flat on his butt again, when the light eventually cleared and whiteness faded from his vision; clouded and glossy.

 

Amber eyes blinked several times, trying to clear the substantial amount of brightness from his sight, before he dropped both hands and stared dumbstruck at the halo of silver standing in front of him, a pair of sapphire hues making direct eye contact with himself.

 

Gon's heart back flipped.

 

The other person – this other boy – twisted towards him and took one step closer, then opened their mouth to say in a quiet, hushed voice that was oddly reminiscent of Whale Island, yet not the same.

 

“Gon?”

 

Gon flapped his gums a few times over with a response on his lips, but surprisingly, all he could muster was a small, “Who are you?” and nothing more.

 

Because in all honestly, he didn't have a clue who this person was, so what else was Gon supposed to say?


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gon and Killua finally break.
> 
> [ Warning: Graphic depictions of Violence. Language. A heck of a lot of abuse, brief description of rape, tons of flashbacks; etc. ]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This thing is so long fricken overdo. I am so sorry. I cannot apologize enough. I don't want to burden nor annoy anybody by rambling about my own predicament, as I am sure everyone has their fair share of struggles; so I will simply just apologize, bow my head, and hope nobody has forgotten me just yet all this time.
> 
> Again, I thank anyone and all who still stick around or happen to read this, for being there.
> 
> This chapter is graphic, violent, and was very difficult to write because I was not sure how I wanted to go about it. But I finally did, and despite not liking it, I'm going to post it before I bury myself in a writing block.
> 
> Comments and critic is always welcome. Again, I apologize. But like I always say, things get explained as we go.
> 
> Thank you.
> 
> Enjoy.

**Psychosis**

_Noun_

1\. A severe mental disorder in which thought and emotions are so impaired that contact is lost with external reality.

2\. Any severe form of mental disorder; as schizophrenia or paranoia for example.

* * *

 

“ **Just to get high.”**

 

“What the hell are you talking about, Gon? It's me, _Killua_. Your friend?”

 

It was around a minute until Killua finally pulled out the courage to speak, because walking in on someone you've grown believing was your trusted friend – _and more –_ disregarding as if you were a commonplace stranger, hurt. It hurt, inexplicably, and Killua couldn't come up with an immediate reply, simply standing there with his tongue rolling around his mouth and his teeth grinding together. Yet none of that was curbing his anxiety, and if Killua didn't speak up, then what would happen then?

 

Gon would probably just run off, flee from this 'stranger' and that would be the end of it; as Killua gave up before he even tried.

 

_No._

 

“ _ **Take it, please. And live. Live Killua. Help Gon. Help your friend. By whatever means, please. He helped me. So please, help him. He needs you.”**_

 

And so, Killua squared his shoulders, reminding himself that this was just ' _the drugs talking'_ and all would be over soon, and edged closer. Gon did not budge, but the confusing word still hung in the air, stiff like silence.

 

“Er. Friend?”

 

“Yes, _friend_.” Killua enunciated, waving his hand in the air for emphasis, then pointed between him and Gon twice. “I'm your friend, Gon. Remember the Hunter Exams? Where we met?”

 

The gears were turning slowly in Gon's mind, Killua could tell, but at the rate he was processing information it'd take him a decade and then some until he understood. Killua did the only thing he could think of, right off the bat, to assist his companion.

 

He punched him, straight across the face.

 

Fortunately, Killua took the much required time to curb his strength and Gon only flew a few good feet then promptly fell to the forest floor below, tangled in weeds and lumps of grass he took in the unwelcome trajectory through a couple of bushes. Killua flinched, covering his mouth with a small 'ouch' and Gon spat out a wad of dirt with big, yellow brown eyes blinking rapidly in puzzlement. His lip was split, specks of blood on his cheek and jawline, but visibly little damage overall.

 

And then his face twisted from blank and expressionless to beaming with realization that turned into over abundant joy. Killua sputtered.

 

“Killua!”

 

Gon jumped and Killua tried to sideswipe away but was caught by a tanned skinned arm outstretched, snatching him up in a giant bear hug that had the young assassin squirming and wheezing for relief. “G-Gon, s-stop, you're _killing_ me. Let go!”

 

“Oh. Oops, sorry Killua.”

 

Carefully, Gon sat up and allowed Killua to rise from the ground, dusting at his clothes with a disgruntled face that wanted nothing more then to deck Gon another one, using at least half his strength this time. But this was Gon, so of course he couldn't say no, let alone break from his desire for this. His friend, smiling ear to ear as he stared at him, ever pleasant on the mood. Killua didn't realize how much he really missed this; since leaving to earn his Hunter's license, until this very moment.

 

_Fuck, I'm still crushing hard aren't I?_

 

“Uhm, so, Gon-” Killua laughed, awkwardly, and Gon's head cocked to the side curiously, “-How, well, how have you been?”

 

“Great!” Gon answered, too fast to be normal. He fist pumped a few times, shuffling in his spot as he rose to his feet to tower over the kneeling white-haired teen. He threw his arms up and laced them behind his head, eyes fluttering shut with a smile. “I've never been better, actually.”

 

Killua felt his heart drop like a rock in his chest to his gut below. So, Gon really hadn't missed him as much as he did Gon? He would have been more bummed if a slim part of him hadn't anticipated this happening. And as it laughed, _oh_ , how he loathed that part of him.

 

It wasn't quite an undeniable truth but neither was it entirely a lie, either.

 

Killua's words tumbled around in his mouth, like his tongue again, then bowed his head and nodded slightly. “I see. Well, that's good to know then.”

 

“Did you pass and get your license?”

 

Without saying anything, Killua flashed the dumb piece of plastic in the air, its glossy shine reflecting off Gon's dark skin while the islander teen laughed and fingered it with a grin. “Wow, yours looks so much more nicer then mine.”

 

Killua dropped the thing back into his pocket and shrugged. “They're the exact same cards, idiot, just with different numbers printed on the back and our names. They don't look any different then each others.”

 

“It's nicer then mine.” repeated Gon. Killua squinted one eye open; since he had closed them awhile back, and his sapphire irises widened in surprise. Gon's face had taken on a more malevolent appearance, amber eyes like molten fire, burning black and angry that Killua was twitching in its stare. He moved back, averting their gaze, and caught a glimpse of those teeth bared at him, curling past Gon's upper lip in a weird snarl.

 

_What the hell?_

 

“It's nicer then mine.” Again, Gon said, and Killua huffed, swinging to face him with a scowl.

 

“Yeah, I heard you the second time, Gon. You don't have to repeat yourself.”

 

“Well it is.” Gon defended, his expression darkening to a point. Killua actually wanted to move, because he looked like a bull ready to charge suddenly, and he had no clue why or what was causing this sudden change. “It's nicer then mine.”

 

But it was frightening and Killua wanted no part in it, even if this was Gon.

 

“Tch, Gon-”

 

“ _Hey, Gon-”_

 

_There was a strange man coming towards Gon; muscled arm outstretched and fingers snapping like a pair of jaws readying to grapple with him. Gon saw flashes of old reoccurring memories of people grasping him, of people yelling and beating and **abusing** him so closely in his ears that he could even make out the soft echoes of their breaths on his skin. There was goosebumps there when he turned, eyes widening upon instinct, and as he moved to see this stranger approach he did the next best thing he could think of._

 

_He swung his fist straight at them._

 

_BAM._

 

As much as Killua kind of deserved the punch from Gon for the one he dealt earlier, he didn't expect it to be as powerful as what he had delivered, because he was flying through the air so fast and hard that the snap of branch and bone was more then enough to give him a clear message that this was about to get ugly.

 

Much uglier.

 

Killua tried, but in vain, to right his position from the strength of the blow, but he was unfortunate when he was hurled through a nearby bush and straight into a huge, hidden rock face. His arm had been thrown out to catch his fall much to his mistake of calculations and the force shoved his limb away and in, the sickening crack of his elbow to his wrist ringing clear as day. His arm folded in and his shoulder and side took the rest of the damage. With a pained groan, Killua sagged to the ground like a broken lump. 

 

Thankfully (in a cruel, unjust way thanking his parents) for Killua, he had, had his fair share of broken limbs and was accustomed to the pain, but it made it no less pleasant to deal with in this sort of situation.

 

“Damnit.” He cussed out loud and curled up on his unscathed side, limp and dangling arm cradled into his chest. There was no way he could pop this back into place, it was obviously shattered somewhere around the base of his elbow. The side of his right jaw was starting to swell and his tongue licked over a few cracks in his teeth that he received from Gon's steel-knuckled fist, wincing when he tasted blood on his gums. He spat out a glob of red and his glare traveled from the ground up to the slowly approaching Gon, looking passive and nonchalant as ever. “What the hell, Gon?”

 

“Killua.” Gon called out and like a light switch that flipped from on and off in seconds, his face lightened back up and he was grinning again, so broadly that it swallowed up half his face in a sickening gesture. Killua grimaced. “Hey, what are you doing?”

 

Although Killua wanted to shove his broken arm's fist right down his friend's throat (and he could have, too) he didn't and hissed out. “What does it look like I'm doing, idiot? You just punched me and expect me to act all happy-go-lucky like you? What the  _fuck_ is your problem?” 

 

“I don't know.”

 

“ _It feels like there's bugs beneath my skin.” Gon said, dragging his fingernails across his calves and thighs as if he was intending to itch, but wasn't sure how hard to press. The boy with brown hair nodded, sitting beside him as he poked at the thick red lines on his own knees, laughing._

 

“ _That's because there are bugs in there. And the only way to get them out is to scratch until they come out.”_

 

_Gon bobbed his head and glanced back down, trying again and this time pushing much harder then the last. He hissed and was mesmerized by the blood that bubbled to the surface from the disorganized surface marks, wondering if it was possible to see the bugs flow up and out with the liquid, free him from this itch._

 

_They didn't._

 

“I don't know.” Gon recited out loud then reached up, crossing his arms over his chest, and began to scratch, _hard_ , into his exposed arms. So hard, that his sharp nails drew blood from jagged lines and Killua felt stomach acid rise in his throat, horrified. Gon ran his fingers down the length of his arms to his wrists and then the knuckles before pulling them away, allowing the bit of blood soaking under his nails to drip on the grass at his sides. His arms looked blistered, puffy and gross with flecks of white around the cuts and Killua saw a flash of the same powdery stuff from before on Gon's nails, like a second coating.

 

_Methamphetamine._

 

Killua almost,  _almost_ , threw up there, but held back and swallowed down his own bile before sitting fully upright with his arm supported by his other, hugged to his chest in a defensive way. Blue eyes gazed cautiously into brown and Killua gulped loudly for the other to hear.

 

“Gon, are you okay?”

 

“ _What's wrong with them?” Gon asked, watching two boys rough housing, or at least it, it had started out that way. Now they were full-on fighting; fists and legs swinging in repeated 'thumps' and Gon could hear each blow like blunt trauma on his brain. Somehow, it hurt more for him to watch then it probably did to the pair as they fought each other. He didn't like it. “Why are they doing this? Shouldn't we stop them?”_

 

“ _Nah.” spoke up a half-shaven girl, part of her flaxen hair flowing out on one side while the other was hairless. She waved her hands in the air, fanning out the smokey clouds puffing out her mouth around the spaces the cigar did not cover. “Get in the way of them and they'll just fuck you up even more. Stay here, kid, if you know what's good for you.”_

 

“ _But-”_

 

_BANG. BANG. BANG._

 

_Gon's eyes almost exploded in a similar manner like the shorter boy's own skull did, for the back of it ruptured from a bullet wound and blood sprayed out a moment until he collapsed and the red liquid was forced to puddle under his lifeless, prone corpse instead. The other kid blew away the smoke from the gun's barrel, shoved the weapon back into his pocket, and stalked away spitting on the ground at his side. There was a complete hushed silence of the small group around them, the one Gon was gathered in, while they stared emotionless at the dead person laying in a pool of their own blood._

 

“ _See? What did I tell you? Get in the way and you're fucked. Dumb ass deserved it for pulling that shit, anyway.”_

 

_The crowd dispersed, leaving Gon to stand motionless as a statue next to the slowly receding puddle of blood and the body frozen within it._

 

_It took him no more then a heart beat and a blink before he was vomiting off to the side, violent and hard and uncontrolled._

 

“ _Shit_ \- Gon!”

 

Killua jumped to his friend's side, reaching out to grab at Gon's hand; or anything for that matter to show his reassurance because the loud, retched sounds Gon made as he barfed right in front of him was torture. As much as he wanted to loathe Gon for some things; for all the crap they had been through together (and even apart), it didn't make it any better to actually watch your friend suffer before you for their actions. Killua ached, his chest hurting, and he rubbed small circles along Gon's back until the recedes of his coughing made him pull away and another fist swung at him, throwing him on his butt in order to avoid it.

 

“What the hell was that for moron?!” Killua hissed, unbroken hand splayed in the grass with the other cradled to his chest still. Gon rose to his feet, twisting in place, and a sinister grin flashed on his face. There was specks of bile and saliva gathered around his mouth and he wiped them away on the back of his sleeve with a bitter laugh.

 

“You hit me.” Gon simply said, stepping forward. Killua scooted back an equal distance. “You hit me, so I'm returning the favor.”

 

“No I didn't.”

 

“You did.”

 

“No!” Pushing himself up, Killua met Gon halfway up in place and unfortunately it was Gon's hand who sped by faster, the ex-assassin wheeling sideways from the strength backing that copper fist. He stumbled to regain his balance and swung around again, fire on the tip of his tongue to retort, when Gon charged straight at him and tackled him to the ground. Dirt and leaves clogged Killua's throat, choking on a gasp from the shock of his skull vibrating through the trauma of colliding with solid ground.

 

“F-fuck.” He gargled out his cuss, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. Gon wrenched a big handful of white locks in his fist and slammed Killua's head face-first into the ground again unexpectedly, throwing stars across his vision with a wheeze. “G-Gon, s-stop-”

 

Again and again Gon wrenched up Killua's head only to squash it back down thereafter, that Killua was beyond helpless to fight it. He was already disorientated from his crash in with the rock and the injury to his broken arm wasn't making the pain any less dull then it already was, so to have his head consecutively pile-driven into hard Earth was the least bit pleasant or consulting for his senses.

 

After around the tenth time (Killua tried to keep track of the number but figured he'd be off by a few) Gon's voice broke the surface of his hazy mind clinging to the edges of reality and unconsciousness. “Shut up.” He said, once, then Killua's face was squished into the dirt, unable to reply. The twigs in his white mane was scratching his skull but it was nothing compared to the ache in his head from the pounding of a conflicted emotional migraine. “Don't say anything.”

 

“ _Don't say anything.”_

 

_A growl from above and Gon's vision spiraled downward, face-first into the water. He choked for air, for any sort of oxygen, as the icy, unforgiving liquid drained him dry and left him struggling for breath._

 

_Gon felt himself flailing and struggling to break free from the grip on his head, but they were relentless and he was weak._

 

“ _Don't speak. Don't say a word. Don't say anything.”_

 

_A spew of bubbles emptied out his mouth as Gon soundlessly screamed into the depths he was submerged within. It was all he could do in this kind of situation, caught in a punishment of almost being caught by the police stealing from the small rest stop for drug cash._

 

_The others bailed him out. But that was five strikes out and Gon was on his last hit._

 

_The rest of his punishment had been torture, actually, so this was nothing compared to the earlier mishap. He deserved this, he thought, told himself and believed somewhere that maybe it was best to stay quiet-_

 

“GON STOP-! Mmmmpgh!”

 

Killua's eyes watered, gagging on the huge clump of grass and mud stuffed into his mouth that Gon had placed there, to stifle the sounds, as Gon narrowed his eyes and flipped him over onto his side to rip away at his shirt. Killua's uninjured arm flung out, desperate to defend himself, and he felt his nails filled with warmth when they caught Gon's shoulder and sprayed out a fan of blood into the air. It tore through his jacket, his undershirt, and straight across his sun-speckled skin.

 

Red gleamed in his vision, dark like the suns rays peeking behind the treetops. At the first hint of blood, Killua froze like a still-frame, unable to move. In the meantime, Gon groaned, teeth grit, and grabbed more dirt from the ground, pushing it all into Killua's face. The dirt that filled the young ex-assassin's nose was gritty, painful, and he couldn't breathe while he thrashed upward with dagger-like nails trying to lash out at anything he could grab, before his wrist was slammed to the ground. Chilly evening air stung his bare torso and something even hotter then blood and pulsing dripped onto his skin, burning hot like a brand.

 

“Ne, Killua.”

 

_There was a look of concern in a young girl's eyes, staring at the burnt patches of skin on the underside of Gon's arms, his wrists, and his elbows. The scorched flesh peeking out behind the exposed areas of his tank-top made her shudder. “Doesn't it hurt?”_

 

“ _Does it hurt?” Gon repeated the question, glancing at where the acid mixed with Meth had burned straight through, gray white bone shining past._

 

“Does it hurt, Killua?”

 

The only reply he got was Killua's gargled scream ringing in Gon's ears while he watched the vial of liquid travel a wobbly line from his friend's pale collarbone to his belly button; scarlet, vengeful, and unforgiving. The same look that flashed into those blue irises, if only for a moment, reflected in Gon's own amber pair.

 

Somehow, he smiled.

 

“ _Does it hurt?” Gon shook his head, smiled, and looked up despite remembering how he was burned by the others. Firstly, for an experiment, and second, for punishment. Failure strangely was one of Gon's strong points after all. “No.” He licked his lips and shook the vial above him, twisting off the knob to let it fall naturally down by the pull of gravity. Liquid fell and he shut his eyes, refusing to look._

 

“ _No it doesn't.”_

 

“ _FUCK. FUCK-_ _GON._ STOP-!”

 

Tossing aside the emptied vial, Gon flexed out his own blunt nails and dragged them down agonizingly slow over the leftover mark. Killua was coughing and spitting out dirt, frantically trying to clear his mouth of the debris to speak coherently, but Gon's torturous movement across an already inflamed wound was making him seize and jerk away from the touch on pure instinct. Although he had been trained to withstand the cruelest of abuse – This was nothing in comparison to the abuse received from someone he considered much more intimate then friends.

 

Killua almost wanted nothing more then death, then to suffer through this and think he could endure the rest of his life with a sense of normalcy.

 

Would things ever be normal after this, either ways?

 

Gon reached out, grabbing hold of both wrists suddenly, and Killua's world distorted, thrown sideways and slammed into a small spread of very green grass fairly reminiscent of where Gon and himself had shared their first time. Well, in all honesty, it was Killua's first but he did like to pretend it had been Gon's as well if circumstances hadn't bent the way they had. If fate had played out better, the way Killua imagined in his dreams, wanted in his fantasies.

 

It was a shared moment between them meant to mean something.

 

But this was nothing like what it should be. Killua knew better then to hope for more then garbage scraps.

 

_The slapping sound of Gon's own skin reverberating from the shock wave of a hand smack was growing tiresome after the tenth time. His cheeks burned, blood draining into his eyes hot and heavy like lead that tried to persuade him to shut his world into darkness. But Gon can't find himself to care too much, too used to the sound of skin hitting skin and the bruising welts that have formed, nor to pay attention to the blood from the head wound sliding down his face._

 

_Red painted his vision, the least, saving him from seeing reality for what it was. Gon was grateful._

 

_There was hushed voices all around him, talking and chatting like a gathered crowd and Gon smiled as his head was thrown sideways and a left molar tooth went flying._

 

“ _Ow.” Weakly, Gon laughed then righted himself, peeking one gold iris up at the fist that brought the bit of metallic tang to his mouth and pursed his lips out like a fish. “That wasn't nice.”_

 

“ _Shut up.” The fist returned and Gon's jaw reeled upward, biting down on the corner of his own tongue unintentionally. Now his mouth was filled and Gon's voice was bubbling in the back of his throat, before punch after punch replaced the slaps and Gon oddly started to miss the slaps, even after mentally berating them earlier. “You little rat ass punk from that dirty scum across town. Think you can just waltz in on our side expecting to steal our stash of drugs? Fuck you! This is what you get for trespassing into our territory, filthy piece of shit.”_

 

_Knuckles, like steel, brought tears to Gon's eyes he had been hesitating to release the entire time - Along with a soft, mumble of a name, just on the edges of his own strangled, broken breath dipped in blood._

 

“ _K-Killua-”_

 

“G-Gon!”

 

It took every ounce of effort for Killua to dodge that last punch, because the constant slapping and yells of ' _Shut up'_ had completely thrown him off track and for Gon to accelerate into full-blown punching was madness. With his uninjured arm, he stopped the incoming fist and gripped it so tight his pale hands went bone-white. Killua's teeth were chattering and his chest was heaving but he held steadfast as Gon remained motionless, quiet; a dead look in his eye.

 

Gold held no light here, for either of them.

 

Killua swallowed, a bit of dirt scratching his throat on the way down, and dared to ask, “Gon, are you okay?”

 

No response. Gon's distant stare traveled right past Killua, straight through him like he was transparent as a ghost. He was hardly breathing, Killua noted, for his chest rarely rose nor fell in times with his breathing, unlike Killua who could scarcely keep up with a jackhammer heart rate.

 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Killua voiced his thoughts out loud, tossing Gon's now-limp arm away to reach up and snatch at his friend's throat – A force of habit after killing so many by simple means of strangulation and depriving of oxygen and blood. Plus, when the bone snapped, it told Killua when to stop expending so much energy, saving him in the long run. Although he had no intention unless provoked to choke his friend into submission; there was no way Killua would allow Gon to continue beating the living shit out of him. Enough was enough. “Why are you doing this? What has gotten into you, Gon?”

 

Gon mouthed something Killua couldn't comprehend nor read and scowled. “Gon, so help me, I will kick your ass right now unless you start talking-”

 

There was a blur of white, quick movement of something else to the right, and Killua had only a split second to pick which direction to fend off. Because they were both coming at him on either side and without his other arm he could only defend from one angle.

 

Killua hoped he didn't pick wrong. He chose the right, shielding himself with his forearm and elbow just in time to block an incoming _Nen_ -enhanced punch from Gon straight to underside of his earlobe. An almost fatal point, really, if he hadn't defended in time, and the ring of Gon's power shook him to the core when they collided, that it was all he could focus on when the white blur from the left hand side hurled towards him at breakneck speed.

 

Or, rather, headed right into his mouth as Gon's open palmed hand stuffed something white, chalky, and foul past his parted lips. There was so much of it that some slipped up his nose, stung his eyes, burned around his cheeks and chin and Killua wanted to both spew and sneeze everywhere if he were able. He choked on it for there was so much ramming down his throat that all he could do was flail, gag and wheeze; force it down as fast as he can less he die of asphyxiation.

 

_Gon was handed a small, blue and white colored pill and he stared at it, transfixed. “Eat it.” The first boy he had met, the one who had given him the drugs originally back in the alley, said._

 

_With everything that had happened thus far, Gon trusted this guy to some extent. He was Gon's age, shared similar features, and he knew his stuff._

 

_So when Gon grabbed hold of the pill and tossed it into his mouth without a second thought; the euphoria that enveloped him was nothing like the latter._

 

_It was far more intense, far more quenching, and Gon crooned under its spell like a true addict._

 

_All for a good 50 seconds until collapsing, straight into the other boy echoing a laugh in the background._

 

“Eat it.” Gon said, from high above or somewhere far off. Killua didn't know which.

 

“No.”

 

“Eat it.”

 

He shook his head to disobey and Gon's scoff sounded hollow in his ears. A loud thunk and the back of his skull slammed into the ground, shaking his entire skull, and the residual bounce of his head collision made him move up into Gon's hand and the horrible tasting whiteness he was subjected to. Killua gulped, his saliva not much aid in guiding the extremely dry powder down, and by the time the last of it was sucked clean he was heaving and gasping on his side, just a smidgen of air left in his lungs to last on.

 

_Shit._ Killua thought, eyes widening. He recognized the overpowering stench of bleach in his nose, the hint of sweetness on his teeth, and the aromatic tickle on his tongue.  _Shit. Shit. Shit!_

 

Gon had just shoved Meth down his throat. Killua had just ingested a whole  _shit_ load of Meth.

 

It felt endless, for how long had he spent taking in all that drug into his system? Just where the hell had Gon even managed so much drug, either way? Despite Killua's skill outlasting the effects of a high poison tolerance, this was by far even too much for his body to handle in one sudden assault. If Killua didn't throw up now, he'd be in some deep trouble.

 

He made a move to twist his fingers into his mouth and stimulate his gag reflex but Gon somehow read his silent actions and swung his fist down with _Nen_ , punishing Killua's fingers into the dirt with a sickening crack. Two fingers broke. The rest were spared by Killua's own careful defense, but it was still more then enough to render him unable to forcefully conjure up his own stomach contents before the Meth hit.

 

In a panic, Killua kicked out at random, striking Gon in the gut. The tanner boy choked on a surprised gasp, lurching back, and Killua took the opportunity to bolt with whatever shreds of his torn shirt falling off behind him.

 

_I have to get away,_ Killua knew, feet pounding on the grassy underbrush beneath his shoes,  _Get some space between us until this drug is out of my system. If I can just wait long enough, I can meet up with Biscuit again and then we can tackle Gon together. With the way he's acting I can't take him on alone. Then-_

 

Out of the blue, Gon's blurry form dove through a bush and tackled Killua to the ground. Air sapped from his already thirsty lungs, and the pair of them rolled across the grassy floor until Gon pinned him successfully below. The compromising position was more or less unsatisfactory. Killua tried to remedy it by tucking in his legs for another kick, but Gon hastened his freedom by sitting right on his legs, his heavier weight baring down at him as did Gon's shadowed, emotionless mask of a face grinning down.

 

There was a smile there, a tortured, manic grin and eyes engorged with flecks of black. There was trails of blood running down the side of his head where Killua had punched him and his far shoulder was coated with crimson bruises. But the expression he bore, was foreboding. He cringed.

 

This wasn't Gon Freecs. This wasn't even close.

 

“Who.” A pause. Killua licked his parched lips, brain growing foggy and Gon's image starting to spin across him, multiplying and fading away in broken snippets like those on a movie reel. Like he knew it would be, the disorientation felt oddly pleasant, alluring; satisfying. “Who are you?”

 

“What are you talking about, Killua? I'm Gon.”

 

Gon titled his head, in but a blink and he was looking as normal and ecstatic as ever. Amber eyes were glowing, bronze skin bright as the sun. He was smiling, like he was confused but yet goofy and happy as always and Killua frowned. _Wrong._

 

He repeated, again and again. His mind, betraying him.

 

_Wrong. Wrong. Wrong._

 

“Idiot, no you're not. Not right now at least.” Killua started and Gon bent down, sealing away the last of his protests in a kiss. It was for only 10 seconds, but 10 seconds plenty to relax the ex-assassin for an instant enough to let Gon bite down on his mouth, earning a bloody tang in his saliva, and blunt, thick nails found the rim of Killua's waistband, dragging it down. Killua squirmed, unsure if it was his body's way of rejecting the touch knowing full well this would lead him astray, or because the drug enticed him to ask for more.

 

He didn't want this.  _I don't want this._

 

Reaching up with what unbroken fingers were left, Killua pushed on Gon who's head found occupancy on his neck, sucking painful hickies along the sides, “Gon. Stop.” Gon's fingers hovered at the edge of his boxer briefs, the last thing shielding his naked body from the crisp, icy air of evening fall and Killua was not about to give in with chemicals engulfing his system and a Gon who wasn't even  _remotely_ a Gon or someone Killua recognized at this point. 

 

“Stop.” He tried again, pushing with his knuckles. Gon's teeth were on his chest, biting anything in sight, and Killua hissed and reflexively bucked because his legs wouldn't kick out like he wanted to, let alone were the receptors in his brain listening enough to obey. “Gon, I said stop.”

 

“ _This doesn't feel right.” Gon urged, but the guy atop him didn't slip in his actions, running a scaly tongue along the underside of Gon's thigh, up to the rim of his entrance, and Gon shook his head like it'd ward the bad chill he got from the foreign sensation of a tongue probing there. “Maybe you should stop.”_

 

“ _Why should I?”_

 

Gon didn't. He dipped low and his incisors scraped along the insides of Killua's pelvis until his canines bit hard into the hip, red liquid surfaced and pooled into the dip around his belly button. He didn't stop when the first drop rose and he was biting and biting and Killua was hissing and barking for Gon to quit but he wouldn't and everything was pretty much going down hill, fast.

 

Killua didn't expect things to escalate so quickly but Gon was ripping away his undergarments and pushing his mouth through the thick pearly white curls there and laughing like a kid on crack as Killua thrashed to no avail. He didn't want this, didn't think it would turn out this way with Gon acting like a complete lunatic and god-knows how high he might be, let alone how high Killua would be once his bloodstream absorbed enough of that damn Meth.

 

He hated this. Killua hated all of this.

 

“ _Why should you?” Gon repeated over the guy between his legs and glowered, pressing both hands against the others head only to pull back patches of dry, dead hair in clumps. He shuddered, the blonde hair faintly glowing like a halo of white and Gon hated thinking this may had been Killua's hair at some point. This was wrong. It all felt wrong. Even with the addition of his already overdosing on Meth, it still didn't feel right.“It doesn't feel good, that's why. You need to stop.”_

 

“ _I don't think I will.” They laughed, pushing his tongue in and Gon's leg jerked on instinct before the man slammed his fist down on it, ending the fit there. “Besides, you're going to like it eventually.”_

 

“Gon, stop!” Killua willed his voice to sound authoritative, commanding almost, or at the very least threatening; as he pulled his nails forward and proceeded to slash forward at the air in warning. His dagger-like claws caught some of Gon's ebony locks, casting off matted lumps the more he swiped, but Gon brushed his hand away with an air of nonchalance that Killua spat at, teeth grinding in frustration.

 

Pausing in his ministrations to bite the piss out of the inside of Killua's once clean, polished and untouched thighs; Gon leaned up on both his elbows and smiled, sweet like spoiled milk, while he responded to Killua's words with a chuckle.

 

“ _You're going to like it, I promise.”_

 

_Gon shuddered, trying to withdraw, but unable as the boy leaned up and slithered over him; like a snake sizing up his prey. There was venom in that tone, poison dripping from his eyes, and Gon wanted to run, to flee; because this wasn't how things were supposed to turn out. None of it is. “Y-you lie.”_

 

“ _Lie? Why, Gon, when Meth and Heroine meet, they never lie.”_

 

_He held up a very large syringe and flashed it over his face, shielding half his smirk from view._

 

“ _Besides, you won't remember a thing when I'm through with you.”_

 

“Why should I?”

 

He gave a lazy flick to Killua's lax, softened cock and dropped his chin atop the tuft of white, grinning lopsided, casual. Killua's eyebrows pressed forward, seething. “Killua will eventually want it if I don't stop, so, why should I?”

 

“You don't want to do this.” Killua interjected, reaching forward to grasp at Gon's hair again but Gon smacked the hand away with more force then necessary. The pain of his broken fingers bouncing made him think twice then to try again. “You're under the influence of drugs. You don't want to do this, not right now.”

 

“Hm. Am I under the influence?”

 

“What?”

 

Killua blinked and before he knew it, Gon's hands were shooting forward and hurling him back to the grass, strangling him. Saliva bubbled up into his throat and stayed there; Killua flailing his broken limb and half-injured one with terrible effort, as his knees buckled and his bare hips were thrown side to side. Gon stayed upright, his weight pressing in on him from his lap, as he tightened his grip around the base of Killua's throat and choked and choked for what seemed like eternity that Killua went without air, went without any sense of semblance then his once dearest friend was actually strangling him into oblivion.

 

_Is this really happening?_ Killua wondered, his vision blurring over again as another small wave of strangeness overcame him, eradicating the pain of being choked, being broken and beat and bruised and bloody. He felt nothingness consume him, a loss of all sensations except mind-numbing pleasure, and Killua wished he could laugh at the sickness of it all for finding pleasure in being overpowered by your best friend.

 

Killua desperately wanted to reach up, grab hold of Gon and return the favor of being torn down like a mere doll, a  _puppet_ and Killua reminisced of the days back when his parents found luxury in torturing him for the 'good of the family name'. When waking up already pulling out the bandages and setting out the antiseptic ahead of time, getting ready for the days of abuse and mistreatment bound to come, so as to avoid extra time trying to expend wasted energy hunting for things to patch himself up with. If it were there ahead of time, it saved him the tired effort of crawling blindly without aid; for there was no one to help Killua then.

 

And even now, when Killua had grown accustomed to the knowledge that there was people there to help him, that he had others to trust and to turn to –  _**Lies Killu, you have no friends. Only enemies** –_ He hesitated trusting his heart instead of his head that afterwards there would be someone to help him.

 

_Is this even real?_

 

Killua's body was flipped over, sometime between the daze of tasting copper pooled under his tongue and his own saliva that was laced with bleach; his face smothered into the dirty patch below. Gon was muttering unintelligibly above him, hovering like a dark cloud so his shadow eclipsed over Killua's own. Blue eyes hardly registered his own broken limbs being tied behind him with something like a shoe lace or some other light-weight, thin material.

 

There was something shifting behind him, clothes ruffling and a zipped being drawn, and Killua's world was tipsy by then; spinning and spiraling in all sorts of colors that made the trees and shrubbery all blend into one abstract painting. The browns mixed with greens and Killua laughed and laughed since it all started to grow fuzzy and funnier by the second. A soft breath of warm air brushed his ear, tickling him, and Killua edged forward wanting to get away from it.

 

The feeling was too nice. He didn't warrant this, didn't want to be subjected to such unrealistic kindness.

 

“Don't.” Killua managed, weakly, tears pricking at his eyes. Fresh blood was sliding down into his eyebrows, stinging the corners where the tears gathered and stayed, not ready to fall just yet.

 

“Please.” There was a sharp, tiny prick on his arm and something cold and slimy being injected into his forearm, but he couldn't feel a shred of pain from it even if he tried. He heard more whispering, something akin to _'You'll like it.'_ and _'I promise it'll be good.'_ before a hot-skinned mass lied over him, covering him fully from behind. There was something just as hot, like an iron rod, pressed against his backside and Killua's mind was too focused on momentarily trying to remember his own stupid name for Pete's sake to care about it.

 

“Stop.” A tender grasp of a hand encircled his neck like a promise ring, his throat being grasped from behind as something else filled up his insides simultaneously. It felt too nice, too light to be real, and Killua grit his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut so the blood and tears mixed there burned like coals and made him wanted to cry more at how oddly nice it felt.

 

_This is so fucked up._

 

Killua hiccuped, a broken sound in his throat before his face was pushed into the grass, muffling his sounds while his body was pressed up and forward from the force lunging behind him;  _in and out, in and out_ in repeat. “Stop.” There was a quiet panting in his ear, matching the tempo in which he muttered that word to no one in particular. “Stop.” Killua whispered further, though his own words never reached his ears, as he repeated it himself in the same manner as the one above him thrust in,  _in and out_ like a pendulum. The pace was hypnotic and if Killua stilled just enough, he experienced the euphoria of being truly lost for once; like time did nothing but tick back and forth to the rhythm and Killua rode to the beat, pliant and willing. 

 

He wanted it to stop though. Even as it felt good, as the drugs made him believe it was good – There was nothing good about any of this.

 

And for once, Killua was rendered helpless, immobile, numb and  _weak._ Killua was weak. 

 

Not just physically, but emotionally and mentally too. Killua was weak. He was weak for a friend; for his  _first_ friend. Killua was weak for Gon Freecs. 

 

And that truth terrified him more then anything.

 

_Gon knelt with his forehead pressed to the floor and murmured repeatedly to the only thing present in the room before him; a single-lit candle on a nightstand._

_  
“I'm sorry.”_

 

_He rose, blinking away the greasy film of slime over his eyes; the residue of so much smoke sticking to his face that it even gathered on his vision, blurring his world and his life. Gon sniffed, rubbed at his nose once, then placed his forehead right back to the floor again._

 

“ _I'm sorry.”_

 

_He rose, tossing aside the bag loaded with a mix of drugs; primarily Meth, and glared at it as globs of fat tears edged his eyes and he choked on a sob, hating how the drugs glowed in the dark, glowed in his presence._

 

_Gon dropped back to the floor immediately, head bowed._

 

“ _I'm sorry.”_

 

_Peeking up, Gon spared one quick glance at the blood-crusted knife still laying at his side, rolled up a spare tank-top to soak up some of the mess. But the blade was imperfect now, stained and gleaming an angry shade of scarlet like a vengeful glow of all that it had slain._

 

_He placed his brow back to the floor and sighed._

 

“ _I'm sorry.”_

 

_One last time, Gon rose to his full height at a sit and stared up at the candle flickering in and out, frown etching sad lines on his face. The candle flame represented life to him, tangoing with fate as it fought to keep lit while at the same time desiring to burn as brightly as possible – For there was no point in living if it had no one to burn for but to die out early would give it no purpose._

 

_Gon wished he shared the same concept of understanding with a candle, because when he touched a hand to his chest; he felt nothing but hollow and empty where the Sin of his burdens did not fill. The burning of his soul was dirty and dark and did not glow like how he wanted to, how he wanted to be seen or acknowledged or noticed. Gon wondered how much the pleasure and satisfaction of heaven was worth if he himself no longer could be deemed worthy to taste it._

 

_Casting out a sigh, Gon pictured Killua in his mind and then he himself tainting and soiling the pretty image of his childhood best friend dirtied by his taint. His black stained the white._

 

_Gon slowly lowered himself, flat to the floor, and clasped his hands in prayer that hopefully;in someway or someday or another, he could find the answer, the cure to restore the halo of light he once knew._

 

“ _Please.”_

 

“ _I'm sorry.”_

 

“I'm sorry.”

 

It was the last thing Killua heard, or at least, could understand coming out of Gon's mouth, before he slipped into the inviting hands of darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the quote:
> 
> "When I'm f*cked up, that's the real me." - The Hills by The Weeknd.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killua experiences the reawakening of an emotion he swore he buried a long time ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excuse me for being so behind with this.
> 
> Let's get the ball rolling baby. Small chapter is small. The rest will have some length. This is just some weird introspect and mind shiz I was toying with. Don't mind me.
> 
> Thanks, as usual, to everybody for your support. Damn I am so late still. This is anti-climatic but that's because I wanna throw you off guard then slam a giant angst wrecking ball on you okay? OKAY.
> 
> Enjoy.

“ **Tell me what you did, where you gone and hid?”**

 

Watching a grown man fall to his knees, practically crushed to pieces right before her very eyes – Was not how Biscuit planned her day on going. No, it had been far too long since she'd seen another adult cry, least of all another man for starters.

 

This man named Leorio was there in front of her, at Killua's side, holding his hand and furiously scrubbing at his face like it'd smear the tears away enough to hide them but the both of them knew it did nothing but reign in the obvious.

 

Killua was seriously hurt and Gon was clearly the cause of it. Not only that, but the little _shit_ ; as Leorio had said more then once in the last half an hour of being here, had taken off and was no where to be seen.

 

The criminal fled the scene of the crime, per say, without a shred of a hint of his current whereabouts.

 

“Damnit.” Leorio wheezed, his voice broken in a sob, “Damnit it all.”

 

Biscuit's eyes skimmed over Killua's bare form, left discarded and obviously used like a piece of garbage. She tried not to stray too long drinking in the sight of such a strong-willed, talented young boy left naked and trashed out in the middle of the open wilderness. His clothes were tattered ruins, scattered remains of his shirt at his left, his shorts and undergarments tarnished to the right. Even his shoes were scuffed, patches worn in and shoelaces removed.

 

It sickened her to wonder why the shoelaces were tied around his wrists, no less a broken arm and a hand lacking two workable digits even. Why would there even be a need for restraints when he was left in that state?

 

Biscuit shuddered.

 

She thanked God just a little that Killua happened to be lying face down when they stumbled upon him, exuberant smiles and pumped-up adrenaline for the possibility that _both_ Gon and Killua would be there together; ready to tackle the problem at hand. For having back-up was crucial and two friends out of three was better then none; at least to Biscuit, so when they arrived hopeful and praying their luck smiled like the sun only to find such a horrific scene – Well, Biscuit was mortified beyond her years.

 

Leorio was worse. He was so bad that the second their bodies materialized in the air and the older man laid eyes upon Killua, he broke. He broke, like a leaf in the storm and ran to his side in a fit of tears and slurred words that she couldn't comprehend what was a sob and what wasn't. He was babbling all sorts of things, checking every inch of him and talking to himself like he was taking notes before he had to stop to take a breather and relax. She could see the mental anguish Leorio was in, with how his shoulders trembled and his hands shook and his uneven, raspy gasps could be heard from half way across the grass spread.

 

But Leorio appeared to be a calm and composed man, and despite how terribly shaken up he was, he had the extraordinary power to center himself in an unstable situation. Her smile felt faint on her lips, yet was there nonetheless as she watched Leorio immediately get to work patching Killua up. She didn't bother interrupting him or offering help – He was so entirely focused on the task at hand that to pry or nudge would simply ruin his concentration.

 

When Killua was finally looking more like a normal human teenager and not a damaged piece of spat out meat, did Leorio settle and sit there, just soaking in Killua's predicament with his head bowed and tears falling. Biscuit pushed aside her blonde hair, stepping up to stand at his side and stare down at the neatly wrapped bandages that covered the pale child like a mummy. His wounds were dressed and Leorio draped his navy dress coat over his naked form, shielding him from the intense sun rays blasting through the tiny spaces in the tree tops.

 

Biscuit was so used to a pale Killua that to see him otherwise, would be difficult to accept.

 

“Leorio,” spoke up Biscuit after a moment, pulling on one of her white gloves, “We can't stay here forever you know. We must find Gon before sun-down or we'll lose his tracks. It's impossibly hard to find someone in this game without the right cards and cards cost money.”

 

“If it's money, I can pay. Any amount.” Leorio righted himself onto the balls of his heels and pulled out his Hunter License. Biscuit shook her head.

 

“Greed Island has it's own currency. Real life money doesn't count here.”

 

“Then how do we earn enough money to buy whatever it is we need?”

 

Sighing, the blonde woman scratched her cheek and laced her white fingers together with a reassuring smile. The image before her; of a young man – A friend – remaining by the side of his injured companion, was heart warming. She was a sucker and this was her sappy side, drawn to seeing other people taking care of one another. The world was lacking on the kind side these days; hell, all she had come across as of late was the selfish, the greedy, the _sinful_.

 

And besides, even she admitted that these past few weeks or so, Gon and Killua had grown on her. They were her friends, too, and her motherly instinct was probably kicking in from lack of children of her own. Biscuit didn't complain.

 

Why, with her slowly declining age, Biscuit promised herself not to complain too much about what life throws at her.

 

“Don't worry about a thing, Leorio. I got this taken care of.”

 

* * *

 

 

“ _Look at where having friends and feelings has gotten you, Killu. Was it everything you ever dreamed of?”_

 

Illumi's towering, willowy form was looming overhead somewhere; out there in the recesses of shadows, but Killua did not budge nor did he bother to look and double check if he really was there.

 

If Illumi even existed here, that is.

 

“ _Isn't this what you wanted? You are the one who signed up for this, after all. This pain, this hurt, this misery, right?”_

 

Killua scoffed. _Yeah right._

 

“ _Is this what you thought it would be? What you spent fantasizing over all these years? Is this what you expected it to turn out to become?”_

 

Killua wordlessly open and closed his mouth a few times. He said nothing.

 

“ _Tell me, little brother. Are you satisfied?”_

 

His sweaty, clammy palms slid over his eyes, shutting him off from the darkness around and into the world that his sheltered hands gave him. Killua remained silent.

 

“ _What have you done, Killua? Have you had enough yet?”_

 

The rock he swallowed down his throat hurt.

 

“ _Doesn't it hurt? Doesn't it feel worse then torture? Wouldn't you rather endure our family's customs over this? Don't we treat you so much better than this?”_

 

Killua was slowly, ever so slowly, closing in on himself; curling into that ever trustworthy ball of himself where no one could touch him, reach him, and least of all harm him. It was his automatic defensive mechanism – He wished that it had only been impenetrable to begin with.

 

“ _Kill, do you like how this feels? This pain? Do you like it?”_

 

He choked on a broken sob, ripped between the spaces of his bit knuckle stuffed in his mouth.

 

“ _Do you miss him?”_

 

Killua was wrestling with the tears flooding past his lids, trying to keep them at bay, but the dam was bursting and his emotions tore through him like a knife.

 

“ _Did you enjoy it?”_

 

A small whimper. _I hate this._

 

“ _Are you happy now?”_

 

The memories of Gon bombarded him in a steady stream of images, flashing back and forth like a movie reel across his mind, behind his palms, and Killua sniffed. His chest hurt. His eyes hurt. His head, his mouth, his nose, his arms and legs – Every piece of him hurt. Every piece of him longed to think that this; _this madness_ , would eventually subside and things would be alright again. Things could return to being okay and he and Gon could return to being friends, to smiles and hugs and the light that cascaded off a sliver of ebony hair and fiery eyes.

 

But Killua's consciousness was right. _Illumi was right_.

 

This was nothing like what Killua ever imagined it to be.

 

Gon simply just wasn't Gon anymore, nor may he ever return to the same as he was before. It was a fact that chilled Killua to the bone, to the soul, and back.

 

Several minutes of silent suffering and Killua finally shuddered back to life, shoveling down the heaves in his chest, the ache in his heart to look up. “I-?” Killua gulped, letting his arms dangle loosely at his sides where they fell.

 

Sapphire irises blinked back open then, crystalline droplets like ice sticking to the ends of his lashes. He sniffed, using the back of his sleeve to rub at his nose, and looked around; ready to try responding to Illumi's echoing questions. But he was nowhere to be seen and Killua frowned, brows pinched forward in concentration. He could have sworn his older brother was here; why, he knew clearly that he wouldn't hallucinate his brother's voice let alone his words. He had seen him first off when he drifted off to this dark land and to find him gone in the aftermath of Killua's battling emotions was strange.

 

“Brother?” He voiced, out loud, to the own echo of his voice palpitating across the black plains. There was nothing here – Nothing but a void of midnight and hollowed emptiness. There was a chill in the air and Killua shivered, goosebumps on his skin, and he clutched at his arms. His heart was racing miles a minute; a drum beating against the inside of his rib cage, and Killua steadily took in a deep breath or two on the premise that it would calm himself. He was better trained then this, raised _differently_ then this; surely he could overcome a bout of sniffles and tears even in his own damned dreams?

 

Deciding that he would get no where standing in one place for too long, Killua marched off towards a random direction. There were still faint whispers and breathy sighs of Illumi's words but nothing he could make sense out of so he was forced to walk, trapped in his own head.

 

Although Killua wished Gon were here, to guide him with that light of his, he knew it would be a fruitless endeavor. The radiance he saw in Gon before; the brilliant ray of perfection and excellence, was smothered in a fog of ash and smoke. There was a tint of gray there where the hues of red and orange used to glow, where the yellow used to blossom like a ball of sunshine and goodness – Now nothing but putrid black, inky and dark like a sea of decayed crystallized drug.

 

How was Killua supposed to get by now without that light guiding him before? He was already birthed from that darkness, but to follow a single glow that had pulled him from that residue; _for so long_ , and then be ripped away from its helping hand, left him lost. Killua was lost, confused, disorientated and unable to fend for himself as if he had been severed from the ties that trained him how to survive alone. The ribbon that led him, instructed him and gave him life and the tools to live and how to breathe; was cut and broken, and now Killua could do nothing but sit and stare at the shreds of its remains and wallow in his own hollowed soul – Himself reduced to nothing but an empty shell with nothing to fill it.

 

Stuck, again, just like he was before Gon and he met.

 

He pulled to a stop somewhere far off from where he started, figuring it'd be a waste of energy to travel for too long in an unending abyss. If there was no door, no exit or light shining in the distance trying to offer him a way out, then it would be of no use to keep trying before he ran out of strength to keep going. It was hard enough lasting the way he was now – Broken, a fragment of himself – but to continue onward to nothingness that awaited, was pointless, and Killua was beyond expending his hope for something that lacked the one thing he was missing.

 

Lacked the one thing he craved.

 

“Gon.” Killua said, once, mouthing his name like a feather across his lips, shivering. The name made the entirety of blackness around him shiver, too, like it was tickled, and he blinked in dawning realization. “Hey, Gon.” He tried again, watching the creases of his dreamland twitch.

 

“Gon!” He threw out one hand, reaching out towards nothing in particular yet willing for something to be there, or at least pretend to be there. Maybe if he reached out long enough; _pushed_ his thoughts hard enough, something would appear and he could free himself.

 

Maybe, in some sick and twisted way, Gon would be there; _normal_ , again, and things could return to normal.

 

_It would return to a time and place where Killua hadn't made the worst mistake of his life._

 

“Gon. Please.” Killua's voice sounded solemn and he hated it, hated how he was at the mercy of that damned Freecs boy like this. After all they had been through, he still needed him. He still wanted him, despite all Gon had done and all the shit he had pulled. Gon was his lifeline.

 

Gon was his everything and he _loathed_ it, yet loved it at the very same time.

 

“Tch.” He clenched his fist and dropped it. Gon wasn't going to come out here to find him, no matter how many times he called out. This was strictly imagination; his sub-consciousness playing mind tricks on him, for if Illumi were here berating his every motive and move then he'd be cold-pressed to find Gon here, trying to convince him otherwise. Gon wasn't going to save him, not here, and certainly not now. Not with drugs in his system, dictating his pathway on a different course that lacked Killua in the equation.

 

“Damnit, Gon.”

 

He sunk to his knees suddenly, clasped his hands together over his face, and screamed as hard as he could.

 

It felt like the right thing to do at the time, screaming full force into his rough palms and ruining his throat until it was raw and course. He felt like tearing apart anything and everything he could sink his nails into, bite and scratch and throw something and wreck the whole damn place and still he could keep on going.

 

If this was what a temper tantrum was like, Killua might consider them more often because he sure as hell felt better screaming himself senseless. Or perhaps, that was what he was desperately trying to convince himself that it did – Telling himself that throwing a fit and blowing up would make him feel shit loads better.

 

In reality it didn't.

 

“ _Killua.”_

 

His head shot up, blue eyes wide, bloated, and he looked straight up into the eyes of Gon's afterimage; fuzzy and disorientated like a bad pixelated image. Gon was frowning and his once honey-orange eyes were rendered solid black, ugly and dark and Killua hated seeing that color on his friend. Hated anything black that dare consume a ray of sunshine slipping in his cracks, in his world. Gon knelt down to his level, cocking his head to the side and blinked. Killua gulped.

 

“ _Do you hate me?”_

 

“I-” Killua started then stopped himself. Did he hate Gon? After all that he had done? Could he still possibly hate him for this? Wasn't this originally _his_ fault to begin with? The reason Gon was swallowed up in the world of drugs; was Killua's doing, wasn't it? “I don't know.” He finally answered, his voice shallow at the depths of his swelling throat, his swollen, thick-with-blood heart carrying the weight of a boulder and the agony of their situation altogether.

 

His chest was heavy and it hurt insanely so.

 

“ _You don't hate me?”_

 

Gon was looking at him, perplexed and still so innocent and Killua forced himself to maintain eye contact. If he were to eventually confront Gon about this – Which he intended to soon – Then he may as well gather his fears and at least manage doing so in his head. If he couldn't speak to this dream-Gon, then he'd be hopeless elsewhere.

 

“ _Don't you want to save me?”_

 

Reaching out, Gon's fingertips reached out and brushed across Killua's scalp, ice cold. He hissed, lurching back and as his hand jerked to slap away Gon's own, Gon caught his wrist and yanked. Killua was forced forward until their noses were touching but Killua found no breath mingling with his own. Just nervous warmth passing between them, sticky like musk. Trying to pull away, their hands shook as Killua pulled and pried but Gon's grip didn't lessen and only tightened, uncomfortably so. It started to numb the feeling in his arm and Killua panicked, knowing his bones would be the next to break.

 

“Gon, let go-”

 

“ _Don't you care about me Killua?”_

 

“Of course I do, Gon, but seriously let me-”

 

“ _Don't you need me still?”_

 

“Gon, really, now is not the time-”

 

“ _Don't I make you happy?”_

 

“Gon-!”

 

“ _Don't you love me?”_

 

“GON-”

 

_Snap._

 

It took all of Killua's mental resolve not to scream as Gon released a limp, dangling arm back into Killua's control and he clutched at his broken wrist, nursing at the dark indigo color blossoming there with a whimper. It hurt worse in his imagination; he thought, as he hugged it to his chest.

 

“Damnit.” Shaking his head, Killua glanced up and glared straight into a smirking face nothing like Gon's true self, “Damn you.”

 

Two hands flew out suddenly, wrenched Killua by the hair and slammed him to the floor. His face was crushed repeatedly again and again into something he swore wasn't even there, in this darkness of a fortress that was his mind; blown apart at the seams and ripped to shreds. He wasn't even sure there was anything left in his head but the empty nothingness that he found and the voices that echoed his loneliness.

 

Tears welled in his squeezed shut blue eyes, the crunch of his fingers snapping reminiscent of the old days catching up with him. But despite the tears being present, wanting to spill, he couldn't let them drop, and his head lulled back as Gon's grasp upon his neck brought him face to face with a Gon who wore the same emotionless, detached expression his brother did. That same set of void-like eyes, cold and calculating without an ounce of feeling in them – Both staring at him, disappointed and frowning.

 

“Tell me, Killua.” The mixed up person said in a mixed up voice, droplets glistening at the corner of their own lids and Killua's heart lurched painfully, “For having friends and feelings; is this _exactly_ what you dreamed of?”

 

Killua choked. He couldn't answer, just couldn't fathom considering it. Was this what he dreamed of?

 

Before he could process what was happening next, Gon's arm drew back and his fist swung and a scream that Killua didn't think he would make came; silencing the second those knuckles collided and darkness ate up his vision.

 

_WAIT-!_

 

“I'm telling you, you're wrong!”

 

“No, I think our best tactic is to take it slow. Rush it too fast and you'll make HIM explode and then where would that lead us? Nowhere!”

 

“Well, I'm telling you that-”

 

With a jolt, Killua bolted upright into a seated position, his scream bouncing off his skull and outward into the forest around him. Leorio and Biscuit all-but jumped out of their pants and over the moon then back as they whipped around to face a screaming Killua, who, in seconds, realized he was awake and not in dreamland and slapped a hand over his mouth, wide-eyed. But as soon as he did, he winced, noticing his two broken fingers jutting out at odd angles, and hissed.

 

“..Oh shit.” His voice muffled past his fingers and the two adults rushed over to him, frantic yet relieved.

 

“Killua!”

 

“You're finally awake!”

 

“Yeah.” Killua said, slowly, lowering his hand back to his lap which he found covered in a huge, mammoth-sized blue jacket he figured to be Leorio's. He could recognize that stinky cologne anywhere. “Yeah, I'm awake. When did you two get here?”

 

Biscuit's brow rose, her pink-eyed stare making Killua cringe away. “Around an hour ago.”

 

“How long have I been out for?”

 

“I don't know. We're the ones who found you like this so it was hard to tell how long you had been out. But I could guess from the drying blood that it had been about two hours since whatever occurred.” Leorio pointed out, gesturing low at Killua's waist. This forced the young teen to blush furiously to the tip of his ears from embarrassment then wave his broken-fingered hand at him with a growl.

 

“Shut up, old man. I don't want to hear it.” He drew up the smelly blue jacket on instinct. “And stop looking at my crotch, pervert. You're worse then Hisoka.”

 

Leorio glared, a retort on his teeth, but Biscuit hushed him. “Now's not the time for this. Killua, tell us what happened.”

 

“What is there to tell?” The words felt hot, burning like acid in his throat and Killua scratched at the make-shift splint his other arm was cast in, in order to avoid meeting their eyes. “I got in a small scuffle. That's it.”

 

“With who?”

 

“Well, you know..”

 

“Killua.”

 

He flinched at the nagging tone. _Just like parents._ “It was Gon. It's not that serious though, so-”

 

“You're calling a broken arm, two broken fingers, major head concussion, broken ribs, and minor skull fracture; ALONG WITH everything else down below that I need remind you of, _not serious_?”

 

“Tch, pervy old man.”

 

“Killua!” Biscuit pulled, hard, on Killua's left ear, the teenager yelping in the process. “Stop acting like a child! This is serious. Tell us what happened, _please_.”

  
“Why?”

 

Both adults stared at him, blank as ever and unresponsive, and Killua laughed dry and humorously because he wished he could find their expressions funny and not _all-knowing_. He hated how well they could read him – How anyone lately, especially Gon, found a way to scan his pages like an open invitation to the book of his soul – and how difficult it was to evade them. It wasn't as easy as flipping on a switch and lying flat out to them, no, these two were seasoned experts when it came to lies and reading people and Killua misjudged how poorly his choices were in making friends.

 

Poor and also very, very fortunate.

 

Why, Killua wondered how fortunate he really was ever since that fateful encounter at the Hunter Exam. How he had fled from home, determined to seek out adventure only to have it come to him; arms open wide and bright grin in tow. Gon, in tow, ready to grab his hand and lead him astray, just how Killua imagined it. Why, it was his wildest fantasies that Killua pictured would happen ever since he was a little boy; bound by chain, gagged to silence, branded by iron and wearing armor of blood-crusted steel. It was but a dream that Killua would eventually find the freedom he so hopelessly wanted.

 

Gon made Killua not so hopeless, then. Kurapika, Leorio, Wing and Zushi, Zepile, and now Biscuit; all made him not so hopeless.

 

And here they were, his fortunate friends supporting him, _caring_ about him; showing their true and honest feelings. Killua was reminded of all the things he buried back then at the Zoldyck family estate; Kukuroo mountain – All the bottled up feelings and the bottled up dreams and wishes he promised to see through, then gave them up on the knowing that _nothing_ was ever going to change. Everything that was buried below the dirt, far deep into the Earth and long forgotten, finally returned to him.

 

Killua Zoldyck had no friends. Killua Zoldyck was a killer.

 

But _this_ Killua Zoldyck; with whom may be beaten and battered, broken and busted, was still alive. This Killua, _still_ had friends.

 

This Killua still had Gon, despite the drugs. Despite all the pain and the agony and the hurt and lies and all of it, Killua knew he still had him. And even if he didn't, Killua was certain he would get him back.

 

Why, after all, Killua never felt more fortunate then he did now.

 

“Okay.” He spoke up, the good kind of fluttering in his chest coming from the way the two before him beamed with relieved smile, “I'll tell you.”


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gon reflects on his past, the very thing that haunts him the most. [Part 1]

**Show me, is what you really want**

 

Gon was not a patient person. He liked to think that he was, but he knew that to lie to himself believing he had patience would only lead him to ruin. So Gon knew, despite the odds, that he had very little patience.

 

Unlike Killua, who seemingly had almost unrivaled patience, Gon would rush into anything and everything headlong; burst into the fray with reckless abandon. Gon was easily compared to a bull – The type of person who stampeded around thoughtlessly full strength, never conservative of one's own energy or fortitude, and would challenge anything that stood in his way. Gon liked to think that to play off being daring meant to be courageous but he was far from that.

 

Gon was just as fearful as any.

 

The first time Gon dove straight into a bad situation was the time he came out torn but not terribly so, yet it was only thanks to Kite and his quick thinking – His innate desire to assist Ging, his mentor, and Gon's association was enough stipulation to risk his own life for that cause – that Gon outlasted with nothing but a mere scratch from encroaching into Fox Bear territory.

 

It was one of many times Gon would find luck smiling upon him but his impatient foolishness was frowning, shadowed at his back.

 

When Gon first tried smoking a whiff of Crystal Meth, he was stoked. Gon hated to admit, but he was a slight bit of an adrenaline junkie; or so Hisoka had laughed at him once back at Heaven's arena. And Crystal Meth was like breathing in pure adrenaline. _His_ adrenaline drug.

 

“ _You like the rush, 'ey Gon?” ~_

 

_Gon was glaring but it was nothing that the magician wasn't used to, so he simply leaned forward and smirked, inches from their faces touched. “You do, don't you boy?”_

 

“ _What rush?” Gon asked, oblivious to what this 'rush' meant. The only kind of rush he knew of was the sugar rush Killua got whenever he overloaded on candy, but apparently there were more? “What are you talking about, Hisoka?”_

 

“ _Ah. So naive and innocent.” The elder man reached forward, running the tip of his crimson nail up Gon's chin and pulling a uncontrollable shiver through him. There was still goosebumps on his skin from where their previous match had his heart beating like wildfire, his lungs racing like he ran a marathon, his body hardwired to fight, to defend, to win. But Gon hadn't won and now he was merely bruised and battered but not worse for wear – Because he had luck on his side – and this strange, intoxicating swirl of emotions in his belly wanting to burst._

 

_Gon swatted his wrist over and knocked back Hisoka's finger, casting a hard-earned glare his way. There was darkness in those yellow eyes and Gon was, in some twisted up logic, enthralled by that gaze._

 

_He wanted more of that look, directed at him, aimed at his direction, and firing to kill._

 

“ _I'm not naive.” Gon said as the magician licked his lips and made him twitch. “And I'm not innocent.”_

 

_Hisoka barked a laugh and straightened, hands propped at his hips while his chest protruded, vibrating with his laughter. Gon rolled his eyes and stomped past, not wishing to waste time when Killua was waiting for him, probably frantic with worry like he always did whenever Gon put himself into a wary situation. He'd be waiting to dress his wounds however minor, Gon bet, and he didn't want to keep his friend standing around forever._

 

_His patience wouldn't let him._

 

“ _Yes, yes, that is so like you, Gon.” Hisoka said, his voice echoing in the distant hallway, “My little adrenaline junkie loves his rush. We'll meet again. I know you can't resist the **rush** either ways.”~_

 

Gon knew what adrenaline was then, after asking and confirming with Wing-san sometime after that; in privacy of course. He didn't want Killua to worry – Or at least he didn't want to bicker with his friend about how much of an idiot he may be sometimes. Gon knew he was moronic but having it reminded to him constantly was a little tiresome, though he did appreciate Killua being there to support him enough to let him know when he was doing something stupid.

 

But he couldn't help himself. Gon didn't have the patience to wait and in turn, he did stupid things, and his luck was good so he didn't worry too much. His foolishness may still be frowning, but if his luck was smiling in his favor then why should he care? The rush he got from his adrenaline was an addiction, a habit Gon was certain he couldn't curb, and Gon didn't want to change that about himself to the very end even if it was wrong.

 

He liked it so what was so wrong with that?

 

Unfortunately, Gon picked a difficult thing to like. It was hard to find much of that adrenaline rush in the things they did, albeit they would always be so small and so little compared to what he favored. Big and catastrophic. There may had been the brief slivers of a rush when, together with Killua and Leorio and Kurapika, they combated the Phantom Troupe and handicapped the Spiders from their leader – But it wasn't enough. He was wound up thicker then knotted rope without the tingle of adrenaline to untie him. Gon wanted more and he found himself desperate, on high hopes that Greed Island possibly might provide that much needed taste of his addiction.

 

And when Gon was introduced to Crystal Meth, somewhere caught between Greed Island and the end of the Phantom Troupe incident, he was totally stoked. Crystal Meth was like a form of adrenaline; or so the teenagers that ushered him forth had informed, and Gon was stoked. This was exactly what he wanted and when he pressed his lips onto that offered cigarette and breathed it in, he was enamored. There was a pungent sweetness hovering on his lips, like sugar and honey and all those good kinds of sweets that even Killua would find bliss in.

 

Gon loved adrenaline and Crystal Meth was like an outside source of it that he could attach to whenever he felt like he needed that _rush_. He didn't have to do anything either to produce that feeling. The drug did it all for him.

 

As Gon puffed on his first joint in the alleyway, his luck was frowning in the shadows.

 

“ _Hey, Gon.”_

 

_Gon turned on his side of the bed, turned to face the other ivory haired boy beside him and smiled, lopsided and lazy. Killua quirked a brow but wordlessly shrugged, brushing their slotted legs together at the toes that Gon couldn't help but shiver at._

 

“ _What is it, Killua?”_

 

_Killua looked sideways, the tints of his blue eyes unfocused and hazy while peering at the ceiling and not entirely at Gon like usual. He had a contemplative look on his face; taut lines and a creased brow all Gon needed to know that Killua was in deep thought, throat rumbling in uncertainty on whether or not to speak. Gon liked that about Killua sometimes – When Killua got all shy and withdrawn but all the obvious signs showed that he wanted to try, wanted to talk to him._

 

_Gon could only imagine how challenging it was for Killua to open up since his childhood and never complained that Killua wasn't entirely straight-forward with him. As long as he knew he was trying and taking consideration into letting Gon in, then that was all he needed to know._

 

“ _Well,” Killua said after a few minutes of passing silence, “I just. I'm worried.”_

 

“ _Worried?”_

 

“ _Do you think we will find a clue to your dad in Greed Island? Or even maybe find him?”_

 

_Raising a brow, Gon scooted closer so the dim lighting would illuminate Killua's face better, allow him a peek at that troubled expression on his best friend. He was frowning and Gon disliked seeing such a sad face on Killua. “I don't know.” admitted Gon with a shrug but the smile never left him. “But I do know that we will definitely find something there that will surely lead us somewhere in finding Ging. My gut says so and I know luck is on our side!”_

 

“ _How can you be so sure?”_

 

“ _I'm just positive about it, Killua. I know we will and we've always been so lucky together. Trust me?”_

 

_Killua snorted. Gon's face was like a spotlight, grinning ear to ear and Killua averted his gaze, staring at the wall. Gon laughed halfheartedly at how Killua's pale cheeks tinted red even in the dark and he leaned forward, pressing their noses together with a giggle. Sapphire eyes widened, turning on him in surprise, then visibly calmed as Gon's smile did not relent. Their warm breaths mingled and Gon shivered, giggling lowly in his chest so it vibrated. Killua's body relaxed then._

 

“ _Okay.” Killua said and Gon felt the weight of his words deep in his heart, dug down in his bones “I trust you, Gon.”_

 

The following night, when Gon climbed back into bed after having a heated clash with Killua over the sharing of his Meth, Gon was hard wired to erupt. He had been smoking the stuff all day into the next night, too enticed by the flowing rush pumped through his veins to come down, and to have his friend bash him for feeling good was the noose around the neck. Everyone he had grown up with had reminded him that there was _nothing_ wrong with feeling good, so then why was Killua so upset?

 

Killua had called this Meth 'drugs' but what exactly were drugs, anyway?

 

If Gon felt motivated more, maybe; _just maybe_ , he would find out exactly what 'drugs' were. The only type of drugs he was known about was the medicinal ones, why, even the sailors back on Whale Island with thick, ugly brown cigars pressed between their lips swore that what they smoked was purely medicinal. It relieved their pains and helped their anxieties – was _good_ for them they swore – and it was simply a past time, nothing more.

 

Gon had spent much time staring and examining the wrapped up white powder inside the slips of paper he made and never once found anything wrong looking about it. Killua said it smelled awful but Gon was so used to the scent by now that it smelt nothing but fresh and alluring to him. After receiving nearly an entire backpack full as per first timer to Crystal Meth; much to the extent of a couple thousand well spent, Gon found nothing wrong with any of it. None of it was foul, old or expired, or showed any sign of mold or tampering as far as he knew.

 

The Meth seemed completely safe to him.

 

And with the high he received – now he knew what Killua was referring to when he said he was _high –_ Gon was soaring towards heaven without the risk of death involved.

 

But the fact that Killua probably trusted him less, wasn't any sort of consolation prize.

 

Nor was the high so much worth the price of seeing that hurt, betrayed expression from his best friend when Gon fled the fight scene, so focused on his need to breathe on the sweet smoke that he left Killua hanging; wounded like an animal from the sting of Gon's own slapped words. He regretted his angry outburst, thinking back on it now, and Gon twisted in the bed to stare at his friend's sleeping face so at peace and relaxed that it was a stark contrast to the early pissed-off despite he saw earlier.

 

All that succeeding tightness in his chest and limbs was washed away in an instant.

 

Gon gulped down a lump there and frowned, reaching out with his hand like he may just touch Killua but he settled on his fingertips pushing away the bangs there; showcasing that pale face in the moon light of their bedroom. The curtains were just peeked open enough to allow a sliver of a ray in and with it bouncing off the back wall; it gave Gon a clear view of Killua's full, pink lips and long eyelashes. Heat rose from his chest, up into his face and Gon rubbed the warmth out of his cheeks with a smile.

 

As if _he_ could ever stay mad at Killua, no, because Killua was his best friend.

 

And more, but that was his secret then at least.

 

Gon placed his index finger against the moistened lips of Killua's and chuckled.

 

“ _Good night, Killua.”_

 

It was a week after that passed, that Gon began to spiral downhill. He realized that he couldn't last even a day without the Meth at his side, because when he and Killua were busy researching the exact date and times that the Greed Islands would be sold off; he couldn't stop twitching or fidgeting.

 

Killua's snide comments about it didn't help either, a grim reminder that Gon lived for his adrenaline addiction.

 

“ _What's wrong with you, idiot?” Killua barked out a laughter, watching Gon shuffle around in the chair while they waited for the woman to bring them the Southernpiece Auction book. Leorio insisted they invest their money into this thing – It contained the exact information they needed on the Greed Island game pertaining to the auction. And, seeing as it was their only lead, they had to take spend on it. “Someone sure seems hyped up.”_

 

“ _I am.” said Gon, forcing on his best winning smile. Thankfully, Leorio hadn't been paying much attention to either of the boys, too busy occupying himself in the beautiful young ladies filtering through the cozy lounge dressed in tight blouses and small skirts to notice them._

 

“ _Oh?”_

 

“ _I'm finally going to get my hands on a clue that leads me to Ging.”_

 

“ _Well, yeah,” Killua scoffed, leaning back on his hands with his feet propped on the table; all public manners discarded, “We better find something after all this. That was a huge hunk of money for a stupid book.”_

 

“ _It's not stupid book.” Leorio countered, coming out of nowhere. He swatted at Killua's legs but the ex-assassin easily evaded him, tongue poked out for taunting measure. Gon chuckled. “And get your damn feet off the table, brat. This place is way too fancy for you to act like a kid. Do you want them to kick us out before we even get the book?”_

 

“ _Fine, fine. I'll be on my best behavior, old man.”_

 

“ _I'm not old-”_

 

“ _Your book, sir.”_

 

_Gon wished he had been paying at least a shred more attention then usual, because really he was interested, but the jitters in his legs and the twitching in his hands was agony and the dull ache of a lack of adrenaline was getting to him. At least Gon could afford a few more minutes pretending to listen and dash out as soon as he can to find his fix. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his shorts and kept his feet buried under the table, all the while his body with its lack of fuel suffered from an unwelcome tremor. The fake smile on his face stayed glued on the entire time through._

 

It wasn't the first time he experienced withdrawal from something, why, Gon remembered faintly the one time he went on a sugar binge at the cost of Mito-san's scolding. Although it had been worth it, Gon found himself craving sweets not even a day after and for a week he would moan and plead and beg to no avail, because Mito-san reminded him that addiction was bad and to never let himself sink so deep. But on the other hand, she encouraged that the things which he found made him feel good, made him happy; he should hold close and never let go.

 

If his addiction made him feel good, then it was cross-countering itself out, was it not?

 

That made it okay, didn't it?

 

“ _Thanks.” murmured Gon, passing aside the envelope stuffed with cash over to 'Lenny' as he called himself. A lot of the teenagers he spoke to when he was drug dealing all had code names or fake names to avoid suspicion and slip around the police. Yorkshin was such a big place, trafficked for all kinds of criminal activity and underground dealings that police piloted around every corner. Even the shadows didn't feel safe and after the first incident with Gon attracting a lot more then just unwanted attention, he was trying to play it safe._

 

_Gon never wanted to have to elude pursuit from five very angry officers and place their lives in danger ever again – Not when he fled and lead them straight into a close-collision with a dangerous car accident._

 

_He was lucky the three that took the brunt came out broken, but breathing._

 

_Lenny rolled his dark brown eyes and Gon swallowed, unnerved how frustrated and annoyed the older male's expression bore down upon him. “Your welcome.” A small parchment bag was handed over to him and Gon bowed his head, thankful._

 

“ _See yah.” Lenny said before Gon could get another word in and his hunkered body melted into the darkening corners of the alleyway. Gon blinked, pulling up the bag and unzipping the sack to the pile of plastic baggies filled with an assortment of goodies._

 

_These goodies cost Gon a few thousand jennies but he hoped this would last longer then the first batch. He hated sneaking out at night sometimes – Kind of wishing he could sleep, actually, more then anything – and he hated how Killua always curled in so tightly on himself like he was hiding a secret. Hiding Gon's secret, at least. But Gon couldn't help himself._

 

Something was starting to crawl under his skin and Meth was the solution he needed to pour right over his wounds and mend him. Or so, he was told at least.

 

What with the nights of constant scratching and intolerable itching during the day while trying to be subtle about his predicament in the face of his friend – Gon wasn't sure how much longer he could take waiting around for a cure to come.

 

They said the drug was the cure but then why wasn't it getting any better?

 

“ _I'll give you a week, no more.” Felix passed along the cigar so filled with white powder that it was flaking out the side. Gon brought it to his lips and puffed out a perfect ring of smoke. Lenny and Suzie were off to his side, both enamored in the same shared cigar not to do anything but giggle every once and awhile to something they said. Gon thought it was silly, or at least, thought something about it when his head wasn't hammered by the foggy haze of his rush._

 

“ _A week?” asked Gon and more giggles followed. He knew he was ignorant but he wished he had the mental capacity to catch onto their jokes or hints more often. Where was Killua when he needed him?_

 

“ _Yeah, a week. A week before you start feeling the creepy crawlies and come running back for more.” informed Felix, licking his lips after rimming his mouth around the joint Gon passed back._

 

“ _A week? I give the kid three days.” interrupted Suzie from the side._

 

_Lenny but in with a laugh. “Four days and he's hooked. End of discussion.”_

 

_The three around him burst into tearful laughter and Gon sat rigid and numb, wanting to belong but feeling like he wasn't in the right place to begin questioning his status either ways._

 

_He just wanted his rush. That was all. And if it was enough to get rid of the bug then Gon could settle for this._

 

_For this silent haze in silent loneliness._

 

Gon cracked, a week into it and indeed, Felix was correct. He couldn't last a week let alone another without Meth, hoping beyond hope that he could cut back on his spending, cut back on his intake, _cut back on his friend's betrayal and pained expressions day in and day out._ But Gon was hopeless, a week on his smokes and his brain was short circuiting without the unexplained swirl of feelings and emotion flooding his system, drowning his brain, for however long he planted his lips on the sweetness and inhaled.

 

Although the thick, black and sickly cloud that spilled out the spaces of his teeth and through the flare of his nostrils was because he was smoking Meth; Gon still didn't like staring at the lingering fog. It reminded him of death, of smoke and ash that burned countless forests, endless buildings and homes, and eradicated all manners of plant life, of flourished animal species, of human beings. It reminded him of the terrible stories focused around fires; how fires could kill, and Gon always associated this smoke with fire. Could the smoke he breathed out kill, too?

 

Gon coughed more then he should, finding comfort in dragging his blunted nails down his legs, inside his arms, and all over the places that were easy to hide under his clothing because he found those to be the most itchiest. The scratch distracted him from the gray plume haloed around his head whenever he smoked and the sour face Killua gave him whenever he sucked greedy and needy on another joint was like rocks bottoming in his gut.

 

His stomach hurt almost as much as his pride.

 

He didn't expect the bruises on his pride either when he willingly agreed to join Felix's gang in payment for his supply of drugs. Running low on cash and steam – and caught between the Phantom Troupe and the sink hole that was Killua's disappoint shadowing him – Gon was forced no more then three weeks in to barter his body in exchange for some drugs. By then Gon's body was already a shredded slab of flesh; he had torn apart so much skin away with his nails that the bandages stained red and the tips of his fingers coated with scarlet color. The bugs infested his brain and Gon swore some days he felt something crawling under bits and pieces of his skin, or tickling under the flesh and bone of his head.

 

Gon picked at his eyelids and his lips every now and again, when Killua had his head turned and Kurapika shut his eyes to think and Leorio was indulging himself in the opposite sex; all of them too busy to notice how Gon shoveled his fingers beneath his skin in hopes of striking gold.

 

Of striking the irritating creatures that took shelter below the surface of his flesh.

 

Felix swore that the drugs would make it better, promising satiety from the pesky things that bothered Gon in his life and Gon sometimes wondered, too, if those things included more then just the bugs in his body. Could the drugs solve all his problems?

 

“ _Yes, yes they can.” Felix guffawed, “If you give yourself up to them, then the drugs will take the reins.”_

 

_Gon's brow line furrowed, thoughtful. “And then what happens if they do?”_

 

“ _Why, Gon.” A crystallized piece of rock was pushed against Gon's puffy lips and Felix snickered, foreboding enough to make the young hunter shudder. “Anything can happen when there's drugs involved. They will saddle you up and break you like a wild stallion then ride you into the ground.”_

 

_There was a chimney of smoke coming out of Gon's ears and it wasn't from smoking this time, but his brain frying. “What's that supposed to mean?”_

 

_Felix nudged the rock against his mouth further, splitting his lip with blood, before the crystal dropped into his open palms and a laugh followed._

 

“ _Why don't you give in and find out what happens yourself, instead?”_

 

It wasn't long after that Gon sunk deep into the meaning of those words when a blonde girl waltzed his way, hips sashaying side to side with odd shaped candles in one hand and a baggie loaded with multicolored pills in the other. She held them up, dangling Gon's bone to safety like a red flag.

 

_Aphrodisiac_ is what she told him and  _escape_ was her promise. Gon had ran out of spaces to stash his blood-lathered bandages in their hotel room so it was best he curb his scratching habit sooner then never. There were tears on the inside of his jacket's sleeves and his shorts were worn and damaged that it was too time costly to sew them constantly. This blonde girl – Evie – offered him a cure and Gon latched like a fish to the bait; hook, line, and sinker, and he fell.

 

Gon fell, hard, into the other side of drugs where the world was no longer so much focused on the rush of adrenaline and weightlessness there and straight into the pool of pleasure and ecstasy; where his body was caught aflame and burned away the bugs and instead burned anew with lust and satisfaction.

 

He discovered the high of sex; per say, locked in a fantasy of his undying crush for his best friend sprawled below him, wrapped around him as a moaning mess where the two of them were trapped in this dreamland. The blue sparkle of the girl's eyes reminded him of Killua and the sweet scented candles kissed with Meth filled the room in its intoxicating scent. Her long, blonde curls fanned out behind her; Gon picturing the way Killua's ivory white hair splayed around his face and highlighted those pale features. It was so similar to his best friend's appeal that as Gon drove his hips forward, plowing them into the pliant body below him, he could just relish in the dream's sticky sweetness of the Zoldyck son under him coaxing him with his aroma.

 

Gon felt invigorated, thrilled by this new discovery that to have sex while on his high, that he could enjoy these moments where his body exploded to life and his mind falsified reality enough to bring him bliss. The added pills were a bonus; mixtures of Cocaine, Heroine, Marijuana,Viagra and other assorted things – Gon promising to invest in them more if it brought him  _this_ kind of rush – and coupled with the Meth, Gon had entered into an entirely new realm.

 

Adrenaline, sex, and fantasy. Gon claimed this heaven for his own, selfish and hungry for more.

 

As long as he could escape from the spiteful bugs that crawled beneath his skin in grim reminder that he was addicted.  _Addicted._

 

Gon swallowed his shame for his high hopes in keeping possession of this cure for as long as possible. Already selling his soul off long ago for the embrace of drugs; Gon was eager to provide for the group he joined in payment for  _more_ . Felix giggled, insane and moronic with his head cocked sideways and grin lopsided like it was never set quite right on his face. Gon offered whatever he could but Felix was the first one to shrug him off with taunts and casual conversation that never actually got finished, cut half-way before it was ever finished.

 

The pieces of their talks was spliced in Gon's frazzled mind that he wondered if it was he who was going crazy or Felix was already mad himself.

 

“ _What are you talking about Gon?”_

 

_Felix's shoulders were trembling from carrying the weight of the large shot gun in his hand. Gon was staring through the gaping hole in the cashier's chest where the blood seeped out and pooled in the middle on the cold tiled floor. This was the fourth time he had experienced this;bad blood, bankrupt, out of love and luck. They were little on cash, little on the luck department where unfortunate things followed their way, with no one to care about them or their actions. The police sirens were sounding off in the distance, Gon counted three cop cars this time figuring how shorthanded they were with the others following similar routines. Rob at multiple places and the same time and the cops would be easily scattered like scared rats in a trap._

 

_The cash was overflowing in the register's open drawer and yet no one had made a move to grab. It was Gon and Felix left now, neither one making a move to take the stash and run. Why, Gon was transfixed by the blood that encompassed the paler body of a young unshaven man just fresh into college and Gon couldn't get his shocked, frozen face out of his mind. It wasn't helping that Felix couldn't stop giggling in the background, the punishing weapon smoldering out the barrel just how the drugs burn fragrant from the cheap paper wrap they smoke it out of._

 

“ _We're already fucked up.”_

 

_Felix rounded on Gon, cocking the gun's line of vision straight into Gon's right cheek bone. Amber eyes blinked, unfocused and unfazed and Gon considered himself mentally unstable staring into the barrel of a gun that had already killed once and did not fear killing again._

 

“ _We're fucked up.”_

 

“ _We aren't.” Gon said, monotonously, and turned away from the gun's eye. He shut his own, vision blackening, and laughed. Although he liked the oncoming rush of being caught doing a dangerous deed, this was nothing like what he expected to happen in return for his need. There was a hole there, in his chest, and he promised himself later to indulge more then necessary in some stress-relieving physical activity to rip his mind away. It always helped before._

 

“ _You-” Felix started. Gon spoke over him, laughing._

 

“ _Not yet, anyway, we aren't.”_

 

Between the late night robberies and the early morning binge fests, Gon was tired. He followed the advice of Evie to start applying make-up to cover up the ugly skin – A trait Gon noticed a lot of the Meth user's around him had – All warped up and grotesque like a messed up painting. Gon didn't like his image reflected back in the vanity mirror either; where the ribbons of reddish scars from his scratching left indentations on his skin and the patches of bloody scabs stuck to the edges of his eyelids, the corners of his lips, and around his inner nostrils.

 

Gon, too tired to bother bathing and cleaning up, layered multiple applications of make-up to any spot on his body that didn't match; keeping it thick and congealed whenever a sliver of something else peeked through. Gon felt proud of himself for keeping up a normal appearance in the face of the others but he was ashamed of the fake identity rearing it's ugly head at Killua. The backlash of his relapse without drugs would snap and bite at Killua when he was around and this in turn pushed his friend to be defensive, snippy, and sink into a tub of bubbling booze that Gon frowned upon when their backs were turned.

 

He knew Killua turned to alcohol as a fix to deal with Gon's drugs but the sting of seeing his friend fall into toxic water was nonetheless painful.

 

“ _What's that?” Gon pointed at the crisp, silver colored liquid sloshing in the skinny and tall glass Killua held. It was frothing a little at the top and smelled faintly of a deep, rich musk Gon remembered passing by the nearby bars near their meet-up alleyways. Like grapes and vanilla._

 

“ _It's a mix of a few things.” Killua shrugged, nonchalant, “Why?”_

 

“ _Such as..?”_

 

_The white-haired boy sighed, knowing Gon wasn't going to give in to his curiosity or his absurd nosiness when it came to Killua's behavior and lifestyle. “Brandy with a little bit of Tequila and Vodka mixed in it. 70 proof.”_

 

_Question marks popped up in Gon's mind and he blinked, mouth agape. “What?”_

 

“ _What, idiot? Didn't you know there's different kinds of alcohol just like there's different types of DRUGS?” Killua mocked, smirking smug and tight. Gon glared, crumpling up a charred piece of paper and chucking it Killua. The ex-assassin easily caught it then chucked it behind him with a scoff. “Tch, don't get your undies in a knot babe. I was just kidding with you.”_

 

“ _What's 70 proof mean?”_

 

“ _35% alcohol. Cut the proof number in half and that's what percent of alcohol the drink is. The higher the proof, the higher your alcohol is, genius.”_

 

“ _Do drugs have proofs like that?” asked Gon, wondering if Felix would tell him about those too. He already knew about several types of drugs, their uses and good affects, along with several other types of things that better enhanced his 'high' experience. Perhaps there was levels of potency too like alcohol?_

 

“ _No. Of course not.” reaffirmed Killua with a wave of his hand. “Either you take a lot of that shit for more of a rush or you don't. It's as simple as that. Though I do know there are some drugs that are better then others.”_

 

“ _What's Meth ranked as in?”  
_

“ _Why the fuck are you asking me?” Gon frowned as Killua stood and marched out of the room, half-emptied glass in hand and snorted. “Talk to your drug buddies, I'm sure they will answer your questions from there.”_

 

_The door slammed shut and Gon's heart sunk with it._

 

“ _Sorry, Killua.”_

 

Like Gon on his drugs, Killua changed with his alcohol. With the aid of his Methamphetamine's buzzing in his system, it opened Gon's eyes to the coming attraction he had for his ivory-haired friend with big, enticing sapphire eyes. They were slender and curved, like the shape of his calves and the definition of his back side as Gon got caught staring at him from behind, licking his lips in silence at the heat pooling low and sweet. Many of the people he chose to escape reality with always resembled his Zoldyck friend; the girls boyish with and light features or the boys – He thanked Kurapika for introducing him into the advancement of homosexuality – he fawned over that were spitting images of Killua but never quite fit the puzzle like his best friend did.

 

The slip into sex only made his secret crush grow strong and it was sometime between alcohol and drugs that Gon's eyes opened to the realization that he wasn't the only one who was crushing hard.

 

Even though Killua often gazed at him with resentment in his eyes, his soft and supple features bared openly to him spoke otherwise. From the pink tint of his cheeks and the way his lips moistened in his presence, the small shuffle of Killua's small feet beside him and the stolen glances caught when Killua thought Gon wasn't looking was enough consolation to give him hints to something more hidden then his own undying need for his friend.

 

Killua liked him; maybe _loved_ him, more then Gon did.

 

When he tested out that theory, ebony hair brushing over white with how close their faces touched, how tightly knit their lips pressed, Gon knew. Kissing his best friend was the greatest feeling he could ever ask, with Killua clutching him as their mouths roamed, teeth gnashed, and tongues dueled for dominance; Gon knew. He knew when he pulled away and saw the emotion dripping with lust in those azure eyes that Killua felt something for him. And if it weren't for the drip of drugs in Gon's veins and the hungry beast inside him baiting to steal his friend away; he would have taken the opportunity then and there to seal the deal.

 

But Gon fled with nothing but, _I knew it_ , and slumped by the door in which he closed, shutting up off from revealing either of their secrets.

 

Although he had been crushed, Gon swore to himself he'd find a way to claim Killua his.

 

If he could just rein in control of his drugs and his feelings and the spiraling of his drug gang predicament, he'd have a chance the least.

 

“ _You're so innocent.”_

 

_A stranger commented and Gon peeked back, half his face smeared with blood. Their expression was nothing but blank and Gon was partly amazed at how composed this girl was, after having been tortured and held captive for so long at the ransom for drugs by Felix's gang. Gon had been left to watch over her and though he was tempted to slip into insanity, he kept his cool and waited. For he was reminded of the same incident before with a woman colored black then dipped in red because of him. The first woman he held hostage – Now this, this girl almost as young as him and just as innocent, sitting there tied to a chair with punishing steel chains for a crime she didn't commit._

 

_The metal links looked ready to crush her and yet she was calling Gon innocent._

 

_How cliché._

 

“ _I'm not innocent.” replied Gon, the words rumbling hollow in his chest. “I've hurt a lot of people.”_

 

“ _How many exactly?”_

 

“ _I haven't kept count.” Gon didn't want to think about it, either, how many people he had spent hurting for drugs. How many people he had beat with bats and shot in the 'unimportant extremities' or the people he smacked around to rip away their possessions and hearts for the price of his drugs. He didn't want to think about the thrilling rush of adrenaline he swam through in the beginning, knowing that he was in danger and at the risk of getting caught; or even dying, for the sake of feeding his addiction. Didn't want to know how it felt to watch those random, **innocent** people around him fall at his feet while he stood there, clutching at himself for control with Meth at his shoulders as everybody died._

 

_It was his guide, a guardian angel that did little to guard him from the horrors of the back alleys and the dark, lurking corners of murderers and rapists and thieves and criminals. None of it made any sense and Gon knew, then too, that this may have been what Killua felt like as a child._

 

_Killing and hurting people because you were told to. Because you had to._

 

_Because you had no choice._

 

“ _Do you wish you did?” She asked, quiet as Gon approached her holding up a gun. His bruised finger pressed the bullet into its chamber with a click and gently Gon pulled up the blindfold that had slipped from her face to cover her eyes from view. He swallowed, she smiled. “Do you wish you had kept track?”_

 

_There was a beep on Gon's pager and he held it up, scanning over the two words there before the gun in his hand rose to eye level, pin point between her two eyes and right against her temple. He pressed forward, allowing the icy cool steel touch her skin and the young girl drew in a breath with a hiss, shivering. But she was still smiling and Gon felt sick and he couldn't help but let his lip tremble and his eyes water because the demon that was Meth was at his back, reminding him that it was okay and it was there for him._

 

_**Do it.** _

 

_ Gon said to himself that he wanted this, but he never wanted  **this** . _

 

_It was too late._

 

“ _No.” he finally answered and the sound of the gun shot's bang echoed throughout the empty cellar for the rest of his life._

 

Gon's life sunk, fast, faster then he thought possible. The sex only pulled him from reality for so long before the bugs came back and the pleasure went stale and he could not longer imagine Killua beneath him but the real people he fucked and he hated it.

 

Gon hated it all. He tossed aside compassion and gave into the adrenaline rush for the sake of having something to pass the time – Not because he found it exhilarating anymore. Gon hurt people, shot them down and stepped over their corpses without looking back because he had nothing else to do nor did he have any control of himself. Felix and the others told him to and he no longer sought out their approval, simply did as he did. He was on autopilot, moving forward without pause and Gon frowned as his luck diminished and Killua was lingering at his side on the cusp of falling too.

 

And Gon hated it.

 

As his life spiraled down head first, Gon grew spiteful and bitter. His nights spent cold, sleeping curled beneath thin covers, or huddled in dark alleyways watching people stray by at night with nothing but smiles on their faces and light at their feet. A trail of smoke led from the cigarette perched between his lips, hopeless. There was no light where Gon tread and he missed it, feeling the positives of sunshine bloom within yet now all that existed was darkness. Gon remembered how Killua had said he was born from darkness and how those who were born there never escape. Gon remembered how he said otherwise, thoroughly convinced that there was always a way out no matter what; but now he was not so sure.

 

Was there even a way out?

 

Gon was on the tips of grasping a solution sometime later, or at least a miracle he hoped, when he strolled in on the massacred bodies of his comrades; or so he often lied to himself that they were.

 

All their corpses lay sprawled and strung about, dismembered and slashed like a bad horror film and Gon screamed. He screamed and screamed and he screamed until there was nothing left because this was reality; his reality, and the note that held bloody in Felix's boneless fingertips reassured the fact that darkness did indeed follow him. That there was no escape from it once he was in its clutches and Gon was honestly fucked, just like Felix said. They were fucked up and he was fucked up and this world was  **fucked up** .

 

He sunk to his knees and screamed, vengeful and angry and all kinds of torn apart emotions wishing to extract revenge on the ones who did it. There was a beast in him that begged to tear, to attack, to feed and claw his way out of this mess but Gon sunk to the floor in a defeated heap; a cowardly, wrecked heap that gave in the second he considered the idea of revenge.

 

In the darkness, there was war, and Gon knew that he alone could not be the one-man army he hoped for, could not stand alone to fight off all the drug gangs they battled or the suppliers they stabbed and shot each other over. It was a turf war, a war meant to fight in groups, not solo. He knew he alone was unable to win and now, truly alone without the support of his other starved companions, Gon would run empty and out.

 

Desperate, Gon tried to barter, to lie and cheat and even hurt his way into a solution that did not come. Only pain and scars came his way with hateful words and a pathetic reality that Gon had lost his thread to sanity in one quick swoop. That he lost the food he starved himself over, the key to his addiction and the crutches that pulled him upright and kept him sturdy; that all of it was gone and he couldn't get it back no matter how much he pleaded, begged, cried and sobbed and threw a tantrum over.

 

It was over. Gon's life of drugs had ended with the death of Felix's gang and his only available supplier of Methamphetamine.

 

In a fit, Gon rampaged the hotel room blindly, unable to control himself. He was by himself at first; sneaking in while Killua was probably out stocking up on his booze, and the second Gon stepped foot on the carpet he snapped. He snapped, like a twig in a hurricane and broke apart as he screamed, high and hoarse and agonizing. He upturned the chairs, the table and the dresser and flipped the bed and threw anything he could get his hands on. It felt relieving, being able to take out all the pent up emotion he had been stockpiling for so long – All in one go.

 

He unleashed his inner beast, he thought.

 

There was literal tears streaming down his face when Killua came in, panicked and alarmed and frazzled like a cat on edge. His friend did his best to console him, to control the situation that Gon could not and all the ebony-haired boy could do was scream relentless, crazy and wilder then an unruly animal in an unsafe place. Chokes of sobs bruised his lungs from the strain of breathing on scratchy coughs bubbled with tears and blood and the lack of drugs there made it worse.

 

Killua insisted he know what was wrong but all Gon could lie and accuse was that there was  _ No more. It's over. I can't get anymore. I'm out. It's the end. _

 

Whatever came up to mind, Gon could distantly remember, and before he knew it his fist was knocking the blood out from inside Killua and spraying it on the walls, the carpet, the furniture; as he punched blindly and clawed his way up out of sheer desperation. And his friend let him, Killua allowed every hit like every hit would solve the problem and make it better. But it didn't and Gon was a crying, insane mess when he fled the scene and starving himself on the emptiness inside that would not leave.

 

_Go away._

 

_Leave me alone._

 

_Please, don't._

 

_Don't do this._

 

_**Help.** _

 

_Give me a break._

 

_Make it stop._

 

_Shut up._

 

_Is this the end?_

 

The blanks in his memory felt unnerving when Gon switched back to reality, a rubber band affect that bounced him from scene to scene and left him placed flash frozen in front of a shocked Killua. There he stood, his friend a little bloodied and bruised, winded as well with the way his breath came out in puffy pants of cool clouds in the chilly night air with Zepile at his side; concerned. And here Gon stood on the opposite side of the sidewalk, a heavy weighted backpack in his hands that obviously had drugs inside. There was plastic peeking out and bleach and chemicals accentuated the heavy odor in the air. The backpack was moldy and the musk of rot hung like afterthought.

 

But Gon didn't care, didn't think too long about why Zepile was there beside Killua or why his best friend was crying out to him because he finally had what he wanted – His demon inside him was happy and satisfied and Gon had to escape while he had the chance to break free.

 

So, Gon ran. He ran and ran and ran until his feet hurt and Killua's screams echoed like a chime around the lonely corridors of slick cobblestones and chilled brick walls cornering him in. The further he ran, the more the world around him seemed to narrow, seemed to close in on him with no escape. The less chance of escape that came, the more Gon ran, until his unfortunate luck drove him straight into a dead end and nothing but he and Killua remained; trapped.

 

“ _Gon.”_

 

_**Run.** _

 

“ _Please.”_

 

_**Run.** _

 

“ _Listen.”_

 

_**Run.** _

 

Gon sunk, to his knees, at a loss. The two halves of his being were tugged, yanked and pulled in either direction and Gon's mind raced. Where should he go? What should he do? He gazed down at the bag in his hand and back at his friend; Killua, the one he had sworn to travel the world with back on Whale Island, promised to help him against his family and find the one thing he wanted to do in life. And Killua, in turn, was the one who assured him he would help him find his father and he has. He's done so much for Gon that he couldn't comprehend, couldn't fathom the many things Killua has done for him since they first met that the debt he'd owe him would succeed that of his drug addiction.

 

Gon owed Killua so much and here he sat, betraying him with these drugs. These enticing, alluring pieces of white and crystals that glittered like gems and gold that promised him endless riches of feelings and adrenaline and all sorts of pleasure Gon couldn't deny surviving without. But neither could he survive without Killua; his best friend, his  _ crush _ and first love and Gon was betraying him for something tangible and easily discarded.

 

Was he really this stupid?

 

The second he dropped the drugs was the second he gave in and ran to Killua. Gon didn't need to think long about his decision or the one he'd choose and although the demon whispered at his shoulders, clutching, Gon clung to Killua with every fiber of his being with the leech at his back.

 

Tears slid down his chin and Gon cried, smiling into Killua's hair with such a relief in his system that left him breathless. The grip tightened behind him, making him stiff, but Gon squeezed Killua as hard as he could.

 

_ I don't want to let go. _

 

He whispered soft, silent promises into the smooth tuft of white, pleased how Killua responded so eager and Gon hoped against hope that his luck would be smiling at his back again. That he could escape this nightmare, once and for all.  


 

But, it was just the demon smiling, and nothing more, and Gon knew things would never be the same.  


 

_ I  ~~ promise. ~~ _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanna thank everyone so much for their comments and support AND patience for waiting this long. It's the thing that keeps me writing the most because I'm a big wimp who'd sooner quit then finish something I've started. So, like always, thank you. A lot. This is part 1 of 2 of Gon's insight so more to come hurr hurr. Hope you enjoyed!


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gon falls, succumbing to reality's vice-grip and he doesn't break free. [Part 2]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is long overdo. I have no excuses but work and financial problems like always. Haha. I apologize greatly for taking so long but I'm going to push myself now and finish this thing. It's a little off, since I haven't written much in so long, so I hope it doesn't sound too weird. Thank you, like always, for all the support. I'll make sure to try and make it worth your while, I hope!
> 
> Nearing the end so expect things to escalate for the finale.
> 
> Enjoy.

 

**Watching what you've got, slowly, circling the drain**

 

“ _ **I'll wreck this, if I have to.”**_

 

_Gon flipped over the hand mirror and stared at his image; daunting, diluted by patches of red and gray and black and Gon frowned at how his image reflected back the darker side of himself. There used to be sunshine in those eyes, freckles on those cheeks, a tint of pink and rosemary and deep blood red color in his lips and now he was nothing but pale and ash like he had been burned beyond repair. Gon clenched the handle to the mirror, hard, before he could no longer stand staring at himself and smashed it full force to the floor next to him and effectively shattering the image that did not smile for him._

 

_Gon was happy to see the glass fragments at his feet and did not look back to clean it up when he walked away and out of the bathroom stall._

 

“ _ **I'll do whatever it takes.”**_

 

_He scoffed, his insides coiling like they were being devoured and Gon clenched his fist at his side, bruised and painful. The burnt parts of his snubbed fingernails were aching like a distant reminder that this was the life he had given up and Gon bit into his swollen lips despite no blood coming forth for him. He shook his head to clear his thoughts but there were ever present, there, and he couldn't get rid of them no matter how hard he tried to fight it._

 

“ _ **I'll ruin everything.”**_

 

_Gon didn't want to give into his desires, no matter how persuasive they could be or how tempting they weaved a spell. He would not fall for it, for he promised not only to Killua but himself that he would make things better. But it was hard, what with the shaking in his hands and the tremble in his legs, to the deluged mind of his muddling thoughts going haywire where reality bent to fantasy and Gon couldn't keep track of dates, of time or names some moments and forget who he was._

 

_It was scary, not being able to focus with the sheer determination he was best known for, or the courage he had once now lacking and leaving him hesitant and fearful._

 

_Gon hated being weak but without his support, his crutch, his **drug;** Gon was nothing but a shell of his former self._

 

_No, he wasn't even himself any longer. Just an afterimage of a hopeless dream that he could be better, could get stronger and make up for his wrongs and produce meaning in his life. But without anything there to guide him, Gon was as lost as an abandoned puppy. He whimpered, knowing there was nothing better to do but wait for the end and be stuck in this infinite loop of chaos._

 

“ _ **I'll do it.”**_

 

_Gon shivered and without thinking, shoved open the door out of the lobby and stepped into the fresh, breezy air of Yorkshin, to the smiling faces of Killua and Leorio waiting, and the blue sky that stretched overhead with a sun spotlighting his path._

 

_He swallowed and marched towards them, ignoring everything, even himself. It was all he could do to ignore the haughty whispers of Meth beckoning to him, anyhow._

 

“ _ **I'll surrender.”**_

 

_At the very least, he hoped he could._

 

The introduction to Greed Island was primarily uneventful. They handed over a release of liability of course and several other meaningless documents to Gon, that they were quick to pass to Leorio for a check-up. Leorio was good like that; smart and reliable and older with experience and always kind. Too kind; he went as far as to wait an extra few days before he left on his flight back to his hometown to make sure they were readily prepared for the game. As much as Gon nagged and Killua sometimes offered a few snide comments against it also, Leorio insisted and so Leorio stayed; keeping tabs on them and always being kind, so kind, to make sure they were okay and mentally prepped for what lies ahead.

 

Gon admired Leorio for that, wishing he could confide in his old friend after the brutal fight he and Killua had experienced but wanting to save the bespectacled man from the harsh worry of a reality he wasn't quite in tune with yet. Leorio didn't know their situation so it was best he didn't get involved. Gon didn't want to hear the scolding of a lifetime from Leorio if he had found out about the drug world he had been drawn into or the alcoholic life Killua was spiraling through as of late.

 

Why, Killua still drank, but Gon noticed it had dropped half the consumption it was since he promised to quit and it was a reassuring feel. His friend wasn't going to sink like he did. Killua would be okay.

 

Gon was uncertain if he was going to be, however.

 

There was only a few hours left before they would be leaving for Greed Island and Gon was a nervous wreck. Not so much nervous on finally entering a virtual reality game known to let even death be real, but the jittery bugs stemming from his lack of drug. It kept him on edge, scratching and scratching when no one was looking like it'd calm the itch down but his blunt, melted-off fingertips did nothing and Gon was restless as ever when Leorio approached him, alone, and concerned.

 

“ _Is everything okay, Gon?”_

 

_Leorio's dark eyes darted from Gon to the bathroom door where Killua lingered, brushing his teeth and cleaning up, and Gon drew in a deep inhale then shuddered. Leorio rose a brow, propping his chin up on his fists from where he sat, his navy overcoat draped across his bent knees._

 

_Amber eyes blinked, narrowed, then brightened. “Of course, Leorio. Why wouldn't everything be okay?”_

 

“ _There's goosebumps on your skin.” The doctor-to-be pointed out and Gon glanced downward at the line of soft bumps dotting his exposed arms, then to his knees and down his calves below the line of his boot. He gulped and Leorio tapped a finger on the inside of his elbow, chuckling, “That and you look rather flushed. Are you nervous?”_

 

“ _I'm not nervous.” defended Gon with a childish pout, arms crossed, “It's just cold in here.”_

 

“ _People who are cold don't get flushed.”_

 

“ _They don't?”_

 

_Well, that was a dead giveaway alright._

 

_Leorio chuckled but it sounded darker in his voice then anything. He sat up, picking at the wrinkles in his coat absently with his nails. “Gon, if there's something wrong or going on, you know you can always talk to me right? I know-” There was a softening in his eyes and then quiet. Gon caught it and he knew the exact reason why – As he felt the same way too about a special someone – but he looked away, trying his best to appear distracted and not so focused this time on Leorio's behalf. “-I know you.” He cleared his throat and sighed. “I know you're nervous and this is a huge deal. I mean- For Christ's sake, you can die! That's a pretty big deal honestly and like hell I want to turn around and the next moment you two are dead because of some stupid game! So, please, if there's something wrong, you would tell me right? Wouldn't you, Gon?”_

 

_Gon bit his lip. Would he? Back then, back when he was **himself** and not whatever this thing is that he had become, maybe he would have confided in his friend. His **friend's**. But now? Gon wasn't so sure anymore._

 

“ _I would.” He lied and the smile flitting over the future medic's face made his heart sink and his fake grin grow even wider. “Of course I would, Leorio! I'm just over thinking things a little, that's all. I'm finally going to find a clue about my father! That's a lot to think about, isn't it?”_

 

_Leorio nodded. “It is. Are you excited?”_

 

“ _Yes!”_

 

“ _Good!” Leorio leaned forward on his elbows and his face shifted from relaxed and calm to utmost serious and Gon couldn't help but gulp then. “But, Gon, you know I'm serious. There's something going on beside you just being nervous, and I think you should really tell me-”_

 

_BAM. SMACK. “LET'S GO, LAZY ASSES.”_

 

_Killua's high-pitched bark bounced off the walls. Leorio fell backwards in his seat, somehow, in a comical fashion. Gon bust into a fit of laughter and was never more thankful for his best friend's interruption then ever before._

 

_A genuine smile swallowed Gon's face as he watched Leorio and Killua bicker, wishing that distractions like these would come more often._

 

_And cover up every mistake he's ever done, period._

 

Because Gon made a lot of mistakes, he realized. The introduction into Greed Island was a breeze as was the initial start-up when they arrived. It was easy to fool Killua at rock-paper-scissors and guide their directional choice in his favor - Gon's secret cheat move always paid off in the end – but that was probably a mistake on his part. Because his choice was what guided Killua straight into the trap of some strange man's spell and still, they did not know how to fix or curb it.

 

Was it harmful? Was it poisonous or dangerous or life-threatening? Killua appeared fine and waved it off like it was nothing and Gon knew it was from all his extensive training that Killua had little fear when it came to outside threats but Greed Island was a totally different ball park.

 

And Gon was terrified inside,, because maybe it all would have been prevented if he hadn't made constant mistakes. If he hadn't picked that direction, they may have steered clear of the danger. If he had tried to intervene and take the hit or even just stop the man, Killua would have been safe.

 

Gon made a lot of mistakes.

 

His constant spell of causalities continued to hit when they arrived at Antokiba, city of prizes and a swell of information for new coming players. There was a plethora of things to do in town from the curtains of reward posters with cards in return for favors and the monthly contests held here showcasing fabulous rare prizes with extravagant appeal. In every corner and every shop, there were people, and Gon was both overwhelmed and overloaded with excitement about what may come to them now that they finally entered the game world with nothing but a thin string leading him in the destination of his father and the clue that could just give him what he's been searching for so long.

 

Again though, it was his mistakes that Gon stumbled through; again and again.

 

Firstly, Gon suggested they enter in a contest on the pretense of winning a rare card. _Sword of Truth_ sounded cool either ways and Rock-paper-scissors was his specialty. It was a cinch to decimate the competition, especially when he and Killua could cheat and simply play off their wins and losses against another to sail through the masses on a breeze. The winning, prized card felt good in their hands when they walked away, and left their palms feeling cold and clammy when it was stolen not more then an hour after from a band of thieves who'd obviously knew the game far better then they did.

 

Back to the beginning, they insisted they try a different tactic to gather more cards and stepped into the next section of card-earning: Reward posters. They picked something relatively easy to do – Find a lost dog.

 

It was simple hunting for a stray up, getting dirty and crawling through all the trash and back alleys with their noses practically pressed to the ground (at least Gon's anyway). That it was, until they were cornered up by a group of strangers who chased them down and bathed them with random spells, leaving Gon and Killua winded and paranoid. For a pair of young adolescent teens caught in a storm with nothing but the clothes on their backs, defenseless; it was easy to make them into clear targets for the harassment of seasoned gamers with nothing but free time to torment newbies like them.

 

They climbed under a bed of leaves, sticks in their hair and rips in their clothes on day one with nothing to gain and everything to lose.

 

Day two worsened. Gon suggested a stealthy approach to avoid unwanted attention and the pair split up, tempting solo card-hunting behind the backs of whispers and gathering eyes trying to signal them out. It was obvious Gon's luck would not hold out, caught twice by several huge, shaggy men with beards as wide as their biceps and steal cards that left Gon dryly disappointed. Killua fared no better, his quest guiding him into the arms of a group of skilled _Nen_ users with enough cards to drown the rich. Anything he came up with was quickly gone.

 

For the second time on Greed Island, Gon and Killua crawled under the dirt and buried themselves there, hungry and pathetic again.

 

The third day brought clarity to their situation and reality into Gon's mind that Greed Island was much more complicated then he anticipated. Even Killua; boasting how he'd spent a good portion of his life wasting away on mindless video-gaming, admitted that this was proving harder then he liked.

 

And ever-the-optimist, Gon, insisted they not give up; because his mind was clouded over in a blanket of despair waiting to wretch his heart and Gon didn't want to fall behind it. Not quite yet, anyway.

 

“ _Gon.”_

 

_Killua whispered, his voice practically drowning in the sea of clambering footsteps, of bells and whistles and words all around from the people on the streets to the people indoors. Killua had his hand clasped to his cheek, like maybe it'd guide his voice to Gon's ears and he only shrugged in acknowledgment, bitter from the earlier heist to successfully keep their prize intact. Winning hard contests they had no skill in was brutal but neither was the cruel beating of sick bastards who thought it funny to pick on young kids just for one pitiful card._

 

_Gon was, indeed, fuming._

 

“ _What, Killua?”_

 

“ _Tch.” His white-haired friend scoffed and carded his fingers through his bangs with a sigh, “Look. I'm thinking we need to get out of here, stat. We've already wasted three days here trying to get cards. I think we need to change tactics and try a different city and, like, maybe way far away where any of **those** guys can't tail us anymore. What do you think?”_

 

“ _I guess.” Gon loathed the sour tone in his voice but he couldn't bring himself to care._

 

“ _Don't sound so agreeable, idiot. I was only suggesting it.”_

 

_Glancing down at his full plate of pasta that yet to appear desirable in his own gut, Gon grunted. They still had twenty minutes to finish the plate and Gon wanted to waste every second of their time staring at it and not filling his growling, empty stomach for the sake of suffering. He scratched at the underside of his green coat, taking great care to keep the sleeve pulled down and the bloody scabs hidden._

 

_Killua had enough to worry about already._

 

“ _Yeah, okay.” Gon relented once he successfully drove away an itch on the inside of his coat collar and breathed out heavily, hoarse. “You're right- Killua's right. Let's leave after tonight and go to the next city.” A light in his head switched, a smile tossed his friend's way. “Maybe we'll find something really cool in the next town over!”_

 

_Killua's lopsided grin didn't go unnoticed. “Now that's more like the Gon I know. Come on, dork.” He jokingly punched Gon in the shoulder, the amber eyed boy glad his attention turned back to his pasta and missed the wince Gon made afterward. “Finish your damn food and let's hit the road already.”_

 

“ _Hai!”_

 

Gon was wrong. It couldn't be better, he thought, because when things began wrong, they finished wrong. The people were worse; not only were the spells awful but the brute force was becoming a pain in the ass and Gon wished for nothing more then a bag full of white powder and something thick enough to wrap around it.

 

Gon could really used a good smoke right about now.

 

Beside him, Killua was on edge, his nails sharp and ready to slice through the next person who dare near them with so much as a foreboding glint in their eye. Gon could see it in the corner of his vision, the way Killua sweat bullets from over thinking so much about their situation. He'd fidget and chew on his lips until they were raw, chapped and bleeding and Gon noticed the spots of blood on the insides of his dirty sleeves and the crusts of tear stains around his elbows. There was a stiffness in his shoulders, a body so tense it could snap at any given moment and break into two.

 

Gon didn't like it one bit.

 

As the grave peril of their situation sunk in, Gon slunk beneath the shreds of his green jacket and stared at the moon light bathing the back of his friend's nape line, shivering cold and restless. He was using his t-shirt as a thin pillow, silver hair splayed across the tattered remains of clothing Gon admittedly smelled sometimes right before he tossed it into the laundry, high on the scent of a Zoldyck who's hormones reeked like perfume.

 

His knees bunched together, thighs rubbing, and Gon swallowed hard.

 

_It can't hurt, can it?_

 

Gon scooted forward, pulled himself into Killua's embrace with soft words and seductive whispers against his temple. His mind was a haze, consumed by the lust and need for a relief; brain fuzzy without the Meth to stimulate it. Killua was willing, legs spreading, drawing him in and coiling like vices, like  _snakes_ that choked him and refused to let go. It was his little whimpers and moans dragging Gon further and further into mindlessness where all he could think about was a distraction from the madness inside of him, of this insatiable crave that had been building and building and all Gon could think was  _why not?_

 

The bugs under his skin were burning like acid and his mind was too far gone to turn back now.

 

_Is it okay?_

 

_Of course it is._

 

Killua peppered kisses over Gon's face like a reassurance and when Gon drew back to observe his face, there was a light there flickering back in big blue irises. His breath caught in his throat and he instantly recognized the look in those eyes, the same that stared back at him in the mirror when he thought of his certain someone. His deadly attraction, he called it; the one whom he rolled beneath the sheets of their bed when alone, with one hand pushing drugs into his mouth, hungrily, and the other clutching hard on the arousal between his legs, desperate.

 

It was love.

 

_Right?_

 

Gon thrust forward, regretting nothing, and the echoes of Killua's blissful cries never left him since.

 

It was luck; most likely not his own doing, that brought Biscuit to them and Gon was appreciative for the change. He had grown weary of strangers and Biscuit was the light that brought new hope to their dark escapade. Even Killua, bitter and spiteful to anyone who wasn't familiar, of the norm, grew to accept her quickly and Gon was glad. Not only had she saved them from a disappointing failure fighting a man who wielded scissors with a _Nen_ -like expertise, but she was willing to train them in preparation to face the harsh reality that was Greed Island and it was all Gon wanted to do to keep his sanity in check.

 

The lack of drugs in his system was the nightmare he couldn't wake from and all he really wanted to do was sleep it off.

 

Training was a distraction as was the budding magnetic attraction sparked between him and Killua, throwing themselves up against the backs of trees, rolling on the grass floor, slaps of bodies and echoing breaths up against the cave walls, and Gon felt unstoppable, uncontrolled, and _wild_. Killua was a bi-polar lover, Gon found out; his personality switching as many times as it took for Gon to maintain a balance on his tip-toes. He'd be as pliant as a kitten one moment to a ferocious tiger the next and Gon admitted he liked it very much so, because he never found himself bored.

 

It was a void in his gut he finally found satiety for.

 

But Gon continued to squirm on the ground alone scratching at his elbows and his wrists until they bled, slumped against trees and peeled off his boots to scrape at the scabs and scars there, sat in utter silence some nights in complete darkness with nothing but one hand on the overhanging boulder's rope and the other with fingers shoved down his throat, stifling his sobs. Sobs of pain, of sorrow and frustration and pent-up emotion that even good sex couldn't guard him from, not even Killua's arms offering him solitude from the creepy crawlies tickling down his spine and collecting in his rib cage. There was a burning on his skin, printed like a second layer that was sticky and slimy and Gon frantically wanted to wipe it off, to wash it all away and he would scrub as hard as he could beneath cold, unforgiving water to no avail.

 

The ache of his fix refused to leave him and Gon was haunted. Truly haunted.

 

Gon realized he could no longer hold himself together at two weeks and three was absolute torture that he choked on his own words; the promise he made to Killua against his addiction that he could not counter, and tears soaked his shorts where his hands busily scribbled sloppy words and a flood of lies to his poor, Aunt Mito. Gon hated himself worse when he sneaked away on bathroom break, pleading with a strange in-game character to send a simple letter to a simple but cherished woman until they relented. And Gon hated himself until he could almost burst into flames when he saw the small set of rings laying in his hand then, clutched tight by bone-white fingers and a skeletal, shaky wrist before he marched forward, intent on making this sacrifice all worth while.

 

_I'm sorry, Killua._

 

Gon scrubbed at his ghosted tears and stepped into a barter's trading post, focused on fixing an appropriate amount redeemable for his Aunt's rings, his inheritance per say, and prayed that God forgive him for his crime.

 

But he couldn't hold back any longer.

 

“ _I'm sorry but we do not accept real-world items here.” The big, bulking man said in a low monotone. Gon's eyebrows furrowed, puzzled._

 

“ _But this is a trading post, right?”_

 

“ _Yes.”_

 

“ _Can't you make an exception? I mean- I thought places like these would trade anything! Can't you take them?”_

 

“ _I'm sorry but we do not accept real-world items here.” The man repeated and Gon practically slammed his fists onto the desk in an outrage._

 

“ _But why not?!”_

 

“ _We only accept in-game items that have been earned, bought, or traded on Greed Island.”_

 

“ _But-”_

 

“ _I'm sorry but we do not accept real-world items here.”_

 

_A vein popped on Gon's forehead and in a fit, he twisted to the side and his kick crumpled the small stand beside the desk, shattering the quaint little flower pot perched upon it to pieces. Dirt scattered around the remains of the dead plant and Gon stomped off, hand glowing translucent from squeezing the rings in his grasp so hard he could crush them. He was steps away from unleashing his temper and his strange, sadistic desire to crush the in-game character's face in when a young, solemn man bumped past him and blinked, dazed._

 

“ _Watch where you're going, kid.”_

 

“ _Oh,” Gon paused, noticing his anger got the best of him and stopped, bowing his head to the person he bumped into, “Sorry.”_

 

_The man turned his way, bearded lips pursed in a frown. “Is something wrong? You sure look pretty fucking edgy for a little kid.”_

 

“ _I'm not edgy.” Gon responded but then realized his mistake. He was edgy. But it was none of this guys' business, either ways. “I'm just not having a good day is all.”_

 

“ _Couldn't make a good deal with that asshole could yah?” A laugh. “Neither could I earlier but I think this time might be a better bet.”_

 

“ _That's nice.” Gon turned to leave but he underestimated how tense he truly was and the unintentional popping of his wrist caused the rings in his hand to fall, clattering to the floor loud like a bell ringing. The man next to him opened his mouth, brow upturned and a smile graced his lips at the sight of two shiny jewelry Gon was bending over to retrieve with a low whistle._

 

“ _Nice rings, kid. Where did you get them sweet pieces from?”_

 

“ _My Aunt.” He answered and almost regretted it, revealing his own painful lie to a complete stranger, “Gave them to me as a gift.”_

 

“ _Is that why you are here?Were you trying to barter those off to that ass over there?”_

 

_His thumb was pointed over at the bulky guy still poised in his seat, completely unscathed by the mess Gon left behind. His face was etched with thick lines, emotionless and unbending and Gon felt a shiver go up his spine at the way it hadn't changed. It wasn't natural._

 

“ _Yeah. I was.” He relented and the stranger nodded his head in understanding. “But they don't take real-world items.”_

 

“ _Want to sell them to me?”_

 

“ _What?”_

 

_Gon had to do a double take, blinking slow and breathing quietly as his sight crept up, straight into this newcomers face. He was shaggy and his chestnut eyes were crusty with white stuff like the scabbed edges around his lips and the bits of dried blood below his nostrils and Gon immediately recognized the signs before they could speak for themselves._

 

“ _Want to sell them to me? I think I can make a deal that might be worth your while.” The man with the stoned face said and Gon thrust over the rings without a second thought that it startled the guy, throwing him off balance._

 

“ _Yes, please, yes!”_

 

_A grin overtook the hairy, prominent beard on the person's face and Gon beamed, knowing hope really was shining on him, if even for a moment, once more._

 

It was the turning point in Gon's Greed Island tale that affected him from there on out.

 

“ _Nothing comes for free, punk, so what do you got to offer?”_

 

_Gon stood before a group of young men; presumably all in their mid-twenties, maybe older, somewhere between the cramped alleyways of the infamous Masadora bar and accessory card store. Gon wasn't a good judge of character nor age like Killua was and that was why he left the scrutinizing to his snowy-haired friend._

 

_He didn't come tonight with his friend, however._

 

_Standing alone, Gon felt small beneath their stony gazes; hard and calculating and rusted over white with drugs and Gon breathed in a hard whiff of the sweet scent. He missed the bleach smell, flowers and vines dripping honey and pine-trees and all the goodness of home Gon associated with – He found them in this drug. Although Gon was on the short side himself, posing before a group of strangers certainly would have been awkward if it weren't for the smoke leaking from their noses or the specks of ash and powder forming rings around their lips and chins that urged Gon to draw closer._

 

_And experience just a taste of the good life, again._

 

“ _I- uh, I have a lot of money on me.” started Gon, voice jittery and unstable. He was shuffling on the balls of his feet, trying to will away the nervousness and find his bravado again, but it seemed to had fled somewhere between the time he entered Greed Island to his defeat up until now. “Well, quite a bit anyway. Greed Island money. I figured that would be enough.”_

 

“ _Hah!” One adult barked and Gon inwardly cringed, “Did you hear that guys? This kid thinks he has enough Greed Island dough to settle with **us**?! Ain't he a riot?”_

 

“ _Hahaha, fuck, wow, this kids' got guts alright!”_

 

“ _Fucking crack job!”_

 

“ _What an idiot!”_

 

“ _Moron!”_

 

“ _Fucking dumb ass!”_

 

“ _Shut up!” Gon's loud, strangled cry tore through the air and all but a constant tidal wave of laughter followed, relentless._

 

“ _Well, kiddo.” The first one to speak cleared his throat past his chuckles, Gon holding back on a surge of tears as he clenched the sides of his shorts with strangling force. The others still continued to laugh, all around him like sinful echos and Gon wished above all they would just **shut up** and let him think properly, what with the men snapping up an uproar and his emotions swirling like a hurricane in his chest. He was ready to explode and take them all down with him if need be. “Someone sure has a lot of gusto tonight, must I say! Confronting us so suddenly with that meager amount of crap you have and **you** expect us to give you the prize. Am I right?”_

 

_Gon didn't nod, simply narrowing his eyes and reaffirming his challenging stare down with whom he believed to be the supposed leader. He was the tallest and broadest of the bunch after all. “I just want to buy some, **sir** , “ Gon tried real hard not to replace the word with a harsh string of cuss words instead, “And then I'll be gone and you will no longer have to deal with me for the time being. But I won't give up until I leave with something, so I would appreciate it if you would settle some sort of deal with me at least.”_

 

“ _Sounds like a threat, my little boy.”_

 

“ _It can be if it must come down to that.”_

 

_He actually did regret his own words that time; a full-blown mistake on his part, especially when Gon was shoved down to the ground by four sets of fists and two pairs of legs all crashing into him at once. He compared the feeling of their limbs like hammers, unforgiving as they all beat down at once and it was all Gon could do but curl up with his arms covering his head, his pathetic **Ten** doing nothing to alleviate the pain or the humiliation he faced. _

 

_He was determined to leave with something worthwhile, even at a price._

 

“ _Show me his face for a moment, guys.”_

 

_Gon hardly registered the slurred voice of his tormentors because his skull was aching at how hard one man was gripping him by the hair, nails to the scalp, fingers digging into his head with violent force. He grit his teeth, reflexively reaching up to pry at the offending hand but two more people confiscated control over his arms and forced him to his knees, forced his head up and his eyes forward straight at the forefront man with large hands unzipping the fly of his jeans right before him._

 

_A shudder wracked his frame and Gon averted his gaze to the left, avoiding the sound of a button popping open and a chuckle from the man who's face resembled nothing but sick satisfaction. Gon remembered that face and he dare not drink in a second sight of it._

 

“ _Hold him still guys and I think I can make this kid worth our while for a good payment, what do you say?”_

 

_Everything and everyone around was closing in and Gon refused to speak a sound and to his relief, he never did, not even once._

 

_I'm sorry, Killua._

 

Staring at a backpack filled heavy made the dull ache of Gon's bruises tolerable, at least for a few nights hence. He laid curled up on his side, one arm cradling his prize and the other himself; clutching at the wounds and the scars he prayed would not plague him of nightmares just yet. Killua was beside him, sound asleep apparently, and Gon wanted nothing more then a hug, tear stains on his cheeks and teary crusts at his eyes.

 

Gon Freecs was so much stronger then this and still he was not. It was but a lie.

 

He promised he'd make it through this, by the end of Greed Island the least, if he could resolve to stay strong for a little while longer.

 

Life resumed to semi-normalcy. Gon avoided running into the same gang twice in this world, for they were all spiteful, all vengeful, all out for blood and Gon kept the slices in his flesh and the thick, purple bruises under wraps from prying eyes and a wary Killua. It'd be a disaster if Killua found out and Gon used any method possible to obtain his fix, especially when the first taste was a blissful awakening back to heaven – Light that Gon had experienced now only better and he was definitely never letting go again.

 

A steal card flashed in his hands and Gon laughed. It felt right in his palms and felt even better when he used it on a lonesome bystander who thought he could keep the scent of freshly chopped chestnuts and mint from his uncanny sense of smell. The bar beside them soaked in the scent of sex and booze was nothing compared to the scent of Meth and Gon was quick to steal it, ravish in ecstasy when he rubbed it against his mouth, inhaling deep, before exhaling out a puffy gray cloud of smoke with a groan.

 

It felt good to get high again.

 

And it was short lived.

 

Gon waved, half of his heart torn at watching Killua have to go but the other reassured that he was going simply because he needed to earn his Hunter's License and now was his last chance to enter before the deadline was over. There was a hurt in those sapphire irises Gon did not like seeing but he didn't say a word, content on keeping quiet for the time being and observe. Besides avoiding to alert suspicion, Gon didn't want to see him hurt by his actions or his lies. It would happen sooner or later but Gon prayed to prolong the inevitable.

 

Biscuit on the other hand, was another case.

 

She was wise and it was troublesome how tight her focus was. She was a dedicated _Nen_ -teacher, even Wing could not compare how her knowledge and expertise stretched beyond her years and Gon was excited to be under the tutelage of someone who knew so much about _Nen._ He had been striving for so long to find his fix in the Hunter world and advancing himself in the world that was _Nen_ was his forth-coming.

 

It was Biscuit who guided him into developing his Rock-paper-scissors technique, Gon's lips twisting in varying smiles and frowns whenever he witnessed his own display of power at his fingertips. Some days he would spend in secrecy, back pressed against the cold alleyways with pathetic souls sprawled at his knees, fist raised aglow with obscene power. His awakening to this strange, otherworldly force was a breathtaking sight to behold; how the orange and yellow hues gleamed, red and fierce and angry and coated with blood. Gon found destruction and chaos easier then reasoning and idle threats, because his words were already empty when he smashed some weird druggie's face in and Gon felt the emptiness all the way to the pit of his stomach.

 

**You're insane.**

 

A violent streak embraced him and Gon was tired of wasting his breath and how there was nothing left but a numbness in his chest; a malevolent chill down his spine. He felt lost, not soon after Killua left and he figured it'd be because he lost his crutch through this ordeal. Not just with how hard it had gotten to secure himself Meth in a virtual reality world, but the fading connection he had with his best friend. Killua was drifting and to watch him climb aboard and take that ship away, though temporary, made him feel lost.

 

“ _Gon. Relax.”_

 

_Killua shook his head, hand clasped onto Gon's bony shoulder and he wordlessly motioned for Killua to come closer, just so he can place a chaste kiss on the underside of his jaw where he'd accidentally been elbowed from._

 

_It was a silent apology after how rough Gon had been during their practice match and Killua faintly smiled, like he always did when he was forgiving Gon for his mistakes, and it made his chest ache more for how stupid he'd always been in believing he could be gentle when he was so doped up on drugs._

 

_Gon had witnessed too many of these random outbursts of strength, of violent tendencies and lack of physical restraint. It was forming a habit he was not proud of and still Killua forgave him; the fifth time now and still kept smiling despite the pain._

 

“ _Relax.” Killua tried again and Gon chewed on his lip, disappointment clear in his face._

 

“ _I'm sorry, Killua.” He said, head bowed, body hunched; defeated as a dog. “I'll try better next time to watch my strength. Promise.”_

 

“ _Idiot. Don't sweat it. Besides, you shouldn't make promises that are too hard to keep, right?”_

 

_Killua leaned forward, his chapped lips dry against his cheek and Gon smiled, forced and fake._

 

“ _Yeah. I know.”_

 

Biscuit was the only one however who could not drop it. She was on Gon every time he stepped out of bounds, every time he moved too far forward with an intent to inflict bodily harm and Biscuit was displeased as Gon was anxious. He moved like a machine, serious and gestures robotic sometimes and Gon could hardly tell the difference between what was him and what wasn't. There were times he'd lash out before he could comprehend his own will, staring straight into the discarded pile of tattered clothes and bloody skin lying at his feet the next.

 

White powdered cigar in hand, every single time.

 

Gon's sense of normalcy was out of balance. He was stumbling and once Killua was gone, no longer there to whack him with a hiss when he was acting irrational, Gon was losing control and falling.

 

His smokes weren't doing the trick and the high he sought after was always just out of reach.

 

“ _If you can't lighten up, Gon, I'm not sure we can keep up this training regime anymore.”_

 

Biscuit frowned, Gon's chest heavy and his ears ringing when he saw how solemn her facial expression was; peering down at him with dull, fuchsia eyes. Gon loathed himself more, wishing he could escape her gaze; her sad, sad eyes. And Gon loathed it, very, very much.

 

“ _I'm sorry, Bisky.”_

 

_Gon knelt low, examining the dead body of the older woman; the lines in her face taut like puppet strings even in death. She was controlled, calculating, and Gon liked that about her when they first met; agreeing to keep their transactions as discreet as possible. Gon provided a sum of cash and certain numbered cards and she would supply him. It was must easier to go through her then many of the unruly men he dealt with; all horny as fuck and speaking through the brain in their pants, not their heads._

 

_Gon hated it and after one too many unwanted encounters he was fearing that the dirt, the stench, and all the icky grime would never come clean and Gon settled for the hefty price of dealing with this she-wolf then groups of perverted older men._

 

_Her name was Lynn and she was as easy going as a porcupine fish with its needles always exposed._

 

_And the formalities between then never escalated to his preference. He kind of wished he hadn't snapped and killed her when she was on another one of her scary outbursts. She screamed in a rage, like she always did, and Gon was so eerily silent it scared even him. All he had seen was white, then black, and her carcass at his feet, rotted and gross with blood and strands of her brown hair fanned against the gray cement._

 

_He realized then, that whatever was growing inside of him; this insatiable desire untamed by the constant surge of Methamphetamine in his system, wasn't going to go away._

 

_Gon wiped the blood off his hands with his ripped tank top, discarded the remains of his saturated clothes over her body before it fizzled out of existence and took the material with it._

 

_In nothing but his boxers and boots, he walked away without a word._

 

Gon hit the breaking point when his last and only available supplier informed him that they were leaving the game. It was all fake laughter and taunts when they passed him that a bag with a official notice slipped inside and Gon slumped, defeated. Biscuit thought something was wrong, then, and in her motherly sort-of way, she tried to console him for whatever problems he was having, but Gon was ignorant and Biscuit left him be; a little more broken and a little more upset. It was evident in her expression, Gon clutching the folds of his shirt with a painful swallow.

 

As if he wasn't facing enough already. He was at the end of his rope.

 

One last bag to go and it was all over for Gon in his mind.

 

Traumatized, Gon swore to himself he would make this and the final bag last. He pulled out the first cigarette and lit the tip of his rolled up joint with his _Nen_ , a dying promise on his lips floating away in the breeze of a congested smoke cloud.

 

He woke up the next morning with an empty back pack and blood in his mouth, his nose, and all over his shirt; crestfallen.

 

_Biscuit sighed, her gloved hand squeezing Gon's tense shoulder blade._

 

“ _Gon, please, won't you talk to me?”_

 

_Disconnected, his amber eyes stared fixedly out at nowhere and shook his head._

 

“ _I'm okay.”_

 

“ _You and I both know you aren't okay. Is it because Killua's not here right now?”_

 

“ _I miss him.” said Gon, words hollow in his throat._

 

“ _You and I both.”_

 

_Pushing himself to his feet, Gon strode away and Biscuit remained still, head lulled to the side with a mumble. “You don't have to lie to me though, you know, Gon.”_

 

“ _I know.”_

 

“ _You say that an awful lot lately.”_

 

“ _Is there something else Bisky wants me to say, then?”_

 

_A questioning glance sent shivers down the blonde woman's back and she pushed to her feet, standing beside him with both gloved hands now clasped at his shoulders, tight._

 

“ _I want you to tell me what's going on with you this past few days. You've been really off, acting one way one moment and different the next. What's going on Gon?”_

 

_There was an awful energy emanating from Gon and Biscuit tried in vain to ignore it. It was creeping upon her steadily, like worms and beetles and snakes slithering their way up her legs and grasping hold; squeezing angry and ruthless. But it was growing and there was a flash of Nen across her vision until a fist swung and it was only thanks to her years of experience and training that she caught it in time before it could clip her. The power behind it rumbled through her bones and Gon instantly drew back as if he had never even tried to strike her down, full force and intent._

 

“ _It's nothing.”_

 

_He walked away and Biscuit wished she hadn't let him._

 

“ _There's gaps in your memory.”_

 

“ _Huh?”_

 

_Gon turned, not more then an hour later before dinner and Biscuit shrugged a shoulder, nonchalant._

 

“ _I think you've got some kind of memory problem, Gon.”_

 

“ _Memory problem?”_

 

“ _Do you even remember what you had for breakfast this morning?”_

 

“ _Eggs and toast..?”_

 

“ _Wrong. I made you pancakes.”_

 

“ _Oh.”_

 

_Gon looked down, shook his head, and exited the cave without a word; leaving Biscuit to sigh with her fists digging into her hip bones and all her hopes dying on the wind._

 

Back to reality, Gon stared at the needle in his hand as he crouched low; the alley around him eerie, like a haunted house only condensed into a thin strip of land sandwiched between two high, looming walls. There was heavy footsteps all around him, echoing on the slick plaster walls where rain seeped through cracks and holes. The wall cried, the droplets of dew leaking down like tears and Gon flinched away from the somber feeling, immersed in the sloshing liquid contained within a narrow, plastic tube.

 

He swallowed.

 

_Can I do this?_

 

He flipped the needle between his fingers a few times experimentally, flashes of his memory fading in and out. Reality felt so weird; one moment he'd be hearing one conversation across the wall and it would quickly change to the next. He'd be breathing and suddenly he would not, he'd be holding his breath in anticipation and Gon's shoulders shook all the way to his fingertips, rattling. Gon wasn't entirely sure who or what was going on; his mind acting in spurts, as he pushed and pulled the needle back and forth, uncertain.

 

_Should I do this?_

 

There was a blank then, Gon dropped the needle once and wondered where the hell he even got a needle full of liquid from – Only to pick it up a split second later and half his face split to grin, the head of the needle kissing the inner skin of his wrist.

 

_What's wrong with me?_

 

His fist slammed down, out of the blue, cracking the cement beneath. Bright crimson discolored the edges around his knuckles now bloody. Amber eyes drank in the sight of red there, bruising the bone underneath and Gon laughed.

 

_It's going to be different now._

 

A switch. Flip. He lowered his arms and slunk against the side wall, blearily remembering all the times he'd been called coward for not trying a needle. How he couldn't drink down the idea of something much stronger. Just how smooth would it had been, to have but one taste at least?

 

_I'm a fool._

 

There was some distance images in the back of his head, of Killua frowning behind him as he watched Gon swallow pill after pill, of endless amounts of drug and poison and Gon wished he'd never had to be there to witness the hurt and betrayal voiced in his best friend's soft, blue eyes.

 

_Killua._

 

He convulsed for a moment, seizing up, then stiffened like an iron rod after. Numb fingertips brushed across the cold ground and lingered over the rim of the needle point, tracing it's edges before he made a grab, yanking it to the air and in one swing, stabbed down with grit teeth and eyes aflame with vengeance.

 

_What the hell am I doing?_

 

“Gon!”

 

Gon twisted at the shout of his name, his vision blurred, head spinning, and cracked a smile. His mouth must have moved at some point but the words never reached him. His own thoughts didn't even reach him, feeling as far away as his soul did. His mind was absolutely empty, like the hollow in his chest, the hull of his beaten, damaged heart.

  
Gon collapsed into the darkness shrouding across his lashes; a tear on his face and a smile still on his lips.

 

_I don't care anymore._

 

And he fell, fearing that this was where he wouldn't ever get back up again.

 

He couldn't remembered if he ever did.


End file.
